Rosy-Fingered Dawn
by Eowyn77
Summary: Bridge between MoS and DoJ; sequel to my fic Interludes. Superman is in Metropolis, Clark Kent is at the Daily Planet, and Lois Lane is trying the concept of "partner" on for size - with varying degrees of success. However, a certain criminal mastermind doesn't appreciate the Daily Planet's newest investigative team.
1. The Planet

Author's Note: This fic is a sequel to _Interludes_ , which was written as a between-the-scenes fic for _Man of Steel_. This picks up where _Interludes_ left off and will end with the beginning of _Dawn of Justice_ , but you should be able to understand everything in this fic as long as you've seen _Man of Steel_. It won't have any major overt spoilers for DoJ, but there will be some foreshadowing from time to time that might accidentally give something away. You've been warned.

Regarding timing, the movie says there was 18 months between the Battle of Metropolis and the beginning of DoJ, but Martha is harvesting tomatoes (a warm-weather vegetable) just before that battle, and there's an incident during a (November 1) Day of the Dead celebration early on in DoJ. However, in my story _Interludes_ , Clark joins the Daily Planet in mid-March, roughly six months after the battle, which would make the timing of 18 months just about right between the end of MoS and the beginning of DoJ. Yes, I'm a geek and an absolute nut for canon.

On that same note about being a nut for canon, I know that Zack Snyder said at one point that Clark wasn't a virgin in MoS, but I have a hard time accepting that given the way Clark was characterized. I doubt he would let anyone who didn't know his secret that close to him physically or emotionally – he was too much of an outcast while growing up in Smallville and too much of a loner after his dad died – so I'm ignoring that statement by Snyder. Nothing I post publicly on FFnet will be M-rated (partly because I have kids who will likely read this someday and partly because those sorts of scenes are extremely difficult to do well). This story will remain T-rated, but because Clark's and Lois' relationship has matured in DoJ, this fic will be on the stronger side of that rating than _Interludes_.

If you're still reading after all that, I hope you enjoy the actual story!

* * *

Lois blinked against the sunlight streaming into her bedroom, trying to sort through what was memory and what was dream. She was positive that Perry in a T-rex costume was not real, but she wasn't so sure about Clark showing up at the Planet in eye-glasses.

Frowning thoughtfully, she went to the kitchen and booted up her laptop. On the Planet's messaging system, she typed in "Kent" and his name popped up with a blank icon instead of his picture. Squealing despite herself, she hurried to get dressed. Even on her first day at the Daily Planet as a cub reporter, even on her first day back after winning a Pulitzer Prize, she hadn't been _this_ excited to go to work.

Sure, he wouldn't be in until noon, but she had a story to write in the meantime, and she intended to actually take a full lunch hour today. She was walking on cloud nine through her morning routine and commute.

When she entered the bullpen, there was no tangible change from the morning before, no visible hint that Clark was now part of the Planet – part of _her_ life – but the sight of the stringer desks made her smile. Soon.

But first things first. The Planet hadn't done a piece about crime rates in Metropolis since Superman had made himself a regular around town. Granted, that was only about two and a half months ago, but with those muggers' failed attempt last night she had a good, human angle for what could otherwise be a boring piece. If she gathered enough data this morning, she and Clark could launch into actual writing when he came in later that day.

The thought alone of him at the Planet (with the glasses and another ridiculous flannel shirt) made her silly fangirl heart go all aflutter, and she actually chuckled at herself. The bullpen was going to be an even more interesting place now, no question.

Plugging her earbuds into the computer, she started her "Research" playlist, cracked her knuckles, and got to work.

...

Someone had been tapping her on the shoulder for a few seconds before Lois realized it, she was that focused. Pulling out one of the earbuds, she looked up to see a befuddled-looking Steve Lombard, though Cat Grant was a couple of steps away and staring at her, too.

"Yes?" Lois asked.

"Who are you and what have you done with Lois Lane?" Cat snapped.

"What?"

Clearly enunciating the words, Lombard said, "You're humming."

"And _smiling_ ," Cat added. " _And_ you were here early today."

Lombard crossed his arms. "Clearly, you're not Lois Lane."

Lois huffed in indignation. "I love my work – I've always loved my work. There's absolutely nothing weird or unusual about me being happy to be here."

"What are you working on," Lombard demanded, leaning closer to view her monitor.

Cat eagerly closed in, too, and then wrinkled her nose. "Murder and rape statistics makes you hum and smile? Lois, you are one sick puppy."

She heaved a long-suffering sigh. "The new guy and I got mugged last night..."

Cat leered. "Did Super-stud save you?"

Lois glowered back. "No. I fought off my own attacker, thank you very much. But it got me wondering about Superman's impact on crime in the city."

"What about what's-his-name? Kent, wasn't it?" Lombard demanded. "He's built like a linebacker. I bet he's good in a fight."

"I didn't really notice," Lois lied.

Perry breezed into the bullpen and passed them on his way to his office. "Lois, stop distracting my reporters."

Lois threw her hands in the air in frustration, but Lombard and Cat chuckled as they went back to their desks.

Not even their teasing could ruin Lois' good mood, and their conversation about Clark was further proof that she wasn't dreaming or crazy and that he really was working at the Planet now. She put her earbuds back in with one last longing glance at the desk that – despite her warning to Clark yesterday – she'd come to think of as his and then focused again on gathering data.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been working before her IM popped up with a message from Clark. "Good afternoon."

She looked at it blankly for a second and then whirled to see him at the stringer desks. The sight of him there did even wilder things to her heartbeat than all her reflections about him that morning. Nobody looking at him would ever imagine he was the heroic alien who saved humanity, not with his goofy grin and Podunk flannel shirt, but not even the bulky blazer could hide his broad shoulders, and the thick, heavy glasses did nothing to conceal the light in his eyes when he glanced up and met her gaze. The hero in him was mind-blowing, but the man himself left her – Lois Lane, a master of words – speechless.

He winked and looked back down at his laptop, and a few swift heartbeats later, he messaged her again. "What are we working on today?"

Still not sure that she could act normal around him in front of her co-workers, Lois typed, "Schedule a conference room, and I'll show you what I've got."

"Umm...how do I do that?" he wrote back.

Grinning, Lois stood and walked over to him, reminding herself that she was just doing what her editor had told her to – showing him the ropes. "There's a scheduling system," she said, pointing it out to him over his shoulder and walking him through the steps to reserve the room. It was only available in half-hour increments, but one was open immediately and in the next half-hour block, so Lois had him snag it and said, "Bring your laptop."

"Thank you, Lois," he said, formally extending his hand but with a very boyish twinkle in his eyes.

It was her first opportunity to actually touch him today, and she fought back a smile as she shook his hand. Warmth spread through her again at his touch, like the rising of the sun. He was real, he was here, and he was going to stay if they could make this work.

Letting go before their handshake could become suspicious, she returned to her desk long enough to email him her notes and grab a pen and notepad. Then they started walking toward the conference room.

Casual small-talk was never her forte, and she mentally groped for a safe topic that wouldn't get them in trouble. Finally she asked, "How was your commute today?"

"Interrupted," he said with a sidelong smile. "But it all worked out. It's nice having a job that's a bit more flexible in terms of schedule."

"That's right," she said, pretending that she didn't know much about his other job. "You're also working the night shift doing reconstruction downtown. How is that going, anyway?"

"Slow but steady," he said with satisfaction in his tone.

In the conference room, Lois sat next to him at the table and showed him the data she'd been able to gather.

"It's sad," she said when he'd reached the bottom of her document. "Crime in the city dropped substantially after the battle, but it's been creeping up again over the last several months. We rally around each other in a crisis, but it doesn't take long before we're back to our old ways."

"Not entirely," he said, intently looking over the document again. "Crime hasn't returned to the pre-battle level and actually started to fall off again in mid-January."

"About the time Superman became a regular here." Of course, having Superman in Metropolis wasn't anywhere near as exciting to her as having Clark at the Planet. Without choosing to, she placed her hand over his.

He glanced at their hands and then up at her with a shy smile before turning his attention back to the laptop screen. "Almost to the day that I moved here."

She half-laughed and said, "Well, we won't be including _that_ juicy tidbit in the article. What angle do you want to take on this instead?"

Clark shrugged. "You're the senior partner. You tell me."

Lois' heart soared, and she affectionately patted his shoulder. "This really is going to work."

In the end, they opted to leave Clark nameless (at his request) and simply write about Lois getting mugged for the human interest part of their story. Clark was good at the number crunching and making sense of trends, while Lois focused on crafting that data into something that might actually catch a reader's attention. All in all, she was very pleased with their progress when a knock on the door let them know their time was up. Lois glanced at the clock and realized they'd been working for almost an hour beyond their scheduled time.

It was pushing two in the afternoon, and Lois remembered her resolve to actually take a lunch hour today.

Glancing up at the superhero in disguise beside her, she was pretty sure she already knew the answer. Still, for the look of the thing, she asked, "You hungry, Kent?"

He glanced at her with knowing grin. Of course he was in the mood to eat – and they both knew it. "Sure."

She actually balled her hand into a fist to keep herself from reaching for his own. How on Earth or Krypton were they going to pull off the appearance of a platonic relationship, even for a short time? "Let's grab a quick bite from Jean's Beans and then get back to work on this. We probably won't have it ready for deadline today, but it should make tomorrow's morning edition without trouble. That'll give us some time to pound the pavement and get a good quote or two."

While Lois struggled yet again to find a safe small-talk subject, they rode the crowded elevator in silence. Even once they were on the street, she put her hands in her pockets to keep from reaching for his. They had crossed the street and were waiting in line before she thought of a suitable question. "So, your job with reconstruction, what's it like?"

He shrugged. "About what you'd expect. We've got most of the rubble cleared from the downtown at this point and all of the buildings that are repairable are back in use. The ones that were condemned are taking longer." In a lower voice, he added, "We still find human remains in those from time to time."

Finally surrendering to the impulse, Lois reached out and took his hand in hers, and he looked down at their intertwined fingers in surprise. Even if other Daily Planet staff might see, she didn't care. Besides, they needed to get this office romance off the ground ASAP.

He lifted his gaze back to hers and smiled before squeezing her hand gently in thanks and letting it go.

More for potential eavesdroppers than for Clark, Lois said, "That's gotta be rough on you guys. Have you found any personally?"

His expression was carefully neutral when he answered, "Several."

Of course he would, with the X-ray and super-zoom vision. Not to mention his enhanced sense of smell.

Giving him a wan smile, she said, "I'm sure the families appreciate the closure."

"I'm sure," he echoed, more solemn now.

Lois frowned thoughtfully at his change in mood and decided not to press him on it. They each ordered a sandwich and waited quietly until their orders were called. As they looked for a place to sit, she eyed the outdoor tables. It was still only mid-March, but it was a pleasant day, and one of the open tables was in the sun. Come to think of it, Clark would probably appreciate some sunshine, too. "Let's eat outside."

Once they'd settled in at their table, Clark asked, "So what's the next step with the crime-rate article?"

Lois chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Probably contact City Hall. Get a quote from the chief of police or the mayor or anybody else who wants to take credit for Superman's hard work." She smirked at him. "If we can find Superman, it might be nice to quote from him, too."

He fought down a smile. "Sounds like we have our work cut out for us."

His comment suddenly reminded Lois of another difficulty looming before them. "Just so you know, I didn't even tell Perry yet that I suspect a certain philanthropist might be behind the illegal gambling ring. I don't know if I would have admitted it to you if you hadn't guessed. _Really_ don't say anything in the bullpen or on our computers about it."

"I guess it would be that sensitive," he murmured in answer.

…

When they got back to the bullpen, Lois saw Perry had sent her an IM about twenty minutes before, telling her to come to his office.

"The Chief needs me," she said to Clark. "Go ahead and call City Hall. If we can get an appointment, that would be ideal, but if not, let them know it's good press for the city and at least get us a quote from their PR people."

"On it."

A little nervous about what white lies she might need to tell, Lois headed to Perry's office. When she knocked, he waved her in, saying, "How's your partnership with Kent coming?"

Lois frowned thoughtfully as she considered what her opinion of Clark would be if she hadn't known his secret. "Not as badly as I expected. He's smart enough and knows how to follow my lead. There's probably no remedy for his fashion sense, but I think he'll work out okay." Inspiration struck, and Lois added, "He's still really green, though. As much as it pains me to say this, if you're serious about keeping him, better have him stick with me for a while."

Perry nodded. "Has he helped out with the gambling ring story yet?"

"We started working on it yesterday, but we got mugged after dinner last night. It got me thinking about crime rates in the city since Superman arrived. I've got a smaller piece, or rather _we_ do, for you for the time being. It should be ready to run by tomorrow morning or whenever you can fit it in after that. Tonight and tomorrow will be focused on my mysterious lowlife. But I'd better warn you, it's going to be slow going with him."

"Or her," Perry added.

Lois shrugged. "Or them. Regardless, following the money has only taken me so far, and my sources on this one are more skittish than usual. I feel like I've hit a dead end, but there's a side-alley that might be promising. Some of the fighters in the boxing matches aren't US citizens, and they're not here of their own volition."

"Human trafficking?" Perry wondered.

Lois nodded. "We usually think of it in terms of the sex trade, but these men are bought and sold just like slaves. They're forced to fight in brutal conditions, and I suspect it's to the death on occasion."

Perry leaned back and considered it. "You know more than you're letting on."

Lois sighed hard in frustration. "It's just a gut feeling at this point, but it's like I'm skirting this great big spider web. There are these sticky threads that are all interconnected, but I'm still just on the edge of it. Where there's a web, though, there's gotta be a spider."

"That makes you scared to just plunge in?"

Lois gave her editor a disbelieving look. "Cautious, not scared."

He smirked. "Potato, pah-tato."

She rolled her eyes. "The big question is how do I go after the spider without getting tangled up myself? I'm beginning to think it's not possible."

"Anybody else, I'd assume that means you're giving up on the story, but I know you better."

"Yeah," Lois agreed, still not happy with the situation.

"Well, in that case I'd say don't run faster than your red-caped guardian angel can fly."

Lois huffed. "I haven't needed a man to rescue me on the job yet, Perry, and I'm not going to start now."

"Too bad," he said, though amusement sparkled in his eyes. "Superman usually makes for a good headline."

...

When Lois returned to her desk, Clark wasn't at his. She frowned thoughtfully and looked around the bullpen for him. Not seeing him anywhere, she pulled out her cell phone, plugged in her ear buds, and opened her police scanner app. Sure enough there was a high-speed chase going on right now, and as Lois listened, Superman intervened.

Smiling to herself, she settled in to work. About five minutes later, Clark sat down at his desk, and Lois crossed the bullpen to him. She showed him her phone with the police app still running. He nodded slightly, a knowing smile playing across his lips, and Lois had to force herself to look away. _Act normal_ , she reminded herself. And normal-Lois would not be hauling the new guy off to a supply closet to make out right now. Forcing herself to focus, she asked, "Did you get a hold of City Hall before your bathroom break?"

"I...um..."

Lois faked an annoyed sigh and rolled her eyes. "The phone number's on the Metropolis website, Podunk. Nobody uses the phone book here in the big city."

"Smallville," he corrected absently as he skimmed the Contact Us page. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and Lois commandeered the chair in the next stringer cubicle over, ready to jump in if he needed it. He didn't, of course. He was perfectly polite, and that gentlemanly sweetness got him through to the city's PR people in record time. Lois listened in wry amusement. If a woman was patient and kind, everyone assumed she was a doormat and walked all over her. She had to be firm if not aggressive to make any headway in the world. If a man was patient and kind, though, it won him respect. Maybe that was part of the difference in their writing, too. Lois had be a hard-hitter to get where she was today as a reporter. Clark, ironically enough, didn't. Having a male writing partner might just turn out to be more useful than she had expected.

He hung up the phone and gave her another grin that sent warmth rushing through her. "The MPD's Outreach Officer is booked solid today, but she's willing to stay after work for an interview. She wants us there a few minutes before 5:00. I assume that'll be okay."

"That'll be perfect," Lois said. "I'm sure she'll be happy with the reduction in crime, and I suspect she's willing to give credit where it's due. We have a couple of hours before we need to go meet her, so let's build some space into our draft for a quote along those lines, and see if we can't get it ready to submit right after the interview."

Clark nodded sharply in agreement, and they got to work.

...

They arrived at City Hall five minutes before closing, and the receptionist led Lois and Clark to the Outreach Officer's desk. She was on the phone, so they found a couple of chairs just outside her office and settled in to wait.

Lois leaned closer to Clark. "Good work on the high-speed chase today."

He half-smiled. "Thanks. I'm getting better at stopping the cars without destroying them. More often than not, they're stolen. Just some cosmetic damage on this one."

Lois smiled. "These and other superhero problems."

"Something like that."

The officer opened her door, and Lois and Clark both rose to their feet.

"Welcome," she greeted. "I'm Sgt. Kelley."

"Pleased to see you again," Lois answered, warmly shaking her hand.

Kelley tilted her head curiously and Lois added, "I remember you from the initial search and rescue after the Battle of Metropolis."

"You have a good memory," Kelley complimented her. "Please come in and have a seat."

Lois led the way but remembered her manners before she sat down, "Oh, this is my partner Clark Kent. He's a transplant to Metropolis since the Battle."

Kelley shook his hand as well and gestured to the other empty chair opposite her desk.

"Do you mind if we record this interview for accuracy in our reporting?" Lois asked as she pulled out her cell phone and opened a recording app.

"I don't mind at all." Kelley easily answered. "So the note said you have good press about our police force?"

Lois glanced at Clark, and he said, "Good press about the entire city, actually. We did an analysis of various crime rates here in Metropolis, comparing the first quarter of this year against the same time period for the last several years. Crime is down across the board."

Kelley nodded with a smile. "That's great news! We've noticed the improvement, too."

Lois jumped in with, "What do you attribute the drop in crime to?"

Kelley leaned back in her chair. "Well, there are several factors. One is that there are more blue-collar jobs available with the reconstruction, and that provides a boost for some of our most disadvantaged citizens and neighborhoods. The perception of law enforcement has improved as well, in large part due to our fallen brothers and sisters in blue who died in the Battle. And, of course, there's Superman."

Lois tried to keep the irritation out of her voice when she said, "I can't help but notice he's at the bottom of the list."

Kelley chuckled. "I saved the best for last."

Lois smiled in answer, relieved that Kelley was also a fan.

"These other factors are important, too, though," Clark said. "Thank you for bringing them to our attention."

Kelley shrugged. "Superman is a fantastic ally for our department, no question, but not even he can stop every crime every time. Humanity has to assume responsibility for our own problems and solutions at some point. I want to make sure credit is given where it's due."

Lois hadn't thought of it that way, and intrigued, she asked a few follow-up questions that kept them talking for another half-hour or so. As Sgt. Kelley escorted them to the front exit, Lois decided that the Outreach Officer would have a larger part of their word-count.

Kelley parted ways with them at the door, and as Lois and Clark walked down the steps of City Hall, she checked her cell phone for the time. It was pushing six o'clock, and the sun was starting to sink in the sky. Clark would start getting hungry soon. "How 'bout we go out for dinner and then head back to the Planet to finish this up?"

Clark smiled, but there was an edge of shy embarrassment to it. "Thanks, but I can't afford to go out every night. I could just run home, whip something up, and come join you."

He had practically walked into that one, and Lois grinned when she said, "Well if you're going to cook, why don't you come to my place, make dinner there for the both of us, and we can wrap it up without having to go back to the Planet."

His smile warmed to something more genuine, and Lois felt an echo of that warmth in her own heart. "I think I'd like that."

They hopped the subway since they weren't in a particular rush at this point, and Lois asked, "What do you think about Sgt. Kelley's perspective?"

"I think there's a lot of merit to it."

"But she places Superman outside of humanity – outside of that social contract," Lois protested.

Clark gave her a self-deprecating smile. "He kind of is."

The rest of the way home, the two of them debated back and forth about how to handle Kelley's portion of their article. When they got to her apartment, though, Lois gestured toward her kitchen and said, "Go ahead. Knock yourself out."

Shrugging out of his suitcoat, he opened the fridge and rifled through it. After a couple of minutes, he said, "How do you not starve? There's nothing here!"

"There is to."

"Apples, oranges, yogurt, milk, eggs. Some jam and..." he pulled out a deli bag and looked at it critically. "Expired lunch meat."

Lois snatched it out of his hand, glanced at it to check and yes, it had expired yesterday. She tossed it in the garbage. "I'm usually not home much," she explained.

He chuckled as he moved on to the cupboards, opening and briefly looking around in them. "Never let my mom see this. She'd freak out. Probably send me money to buy you groceries."

Lois flushed in embarrassment. "Don't tell her, then!"

Mischief danced in his eyes as he turned and grinned at her. "Alright, but only on the condition that you let me go get a few cooking supplies for you."

She sighed in frustration and then crossed the room to her coffee table and purse. Retrieving her wallet, she pulled out a couple of twenty-dollar bills and held them out to him. "Will this cover it?"

He took one of the bills and said, "Yes, and then some, if you like feta and mushroom omelets."

"Sounds delicious. I'll start working on Sgt. Kelley's contribution while you're gone."

Clark nodded in agreement and said, "Be right back," as he slipped through the door. Out of habit, she locked it behind him before booting up her laptop.

She hadn't even finished transcribing the statements from Sgt. Kelley that she wanted to use before there was a knock on her door. Glancing through the peephole, she saw it was Clark and let him. "That was quick."

He smirked as he crossed to the kitchen with his armload of groceries. "I walk fast."

Lois watched in fascinated amusement as Clark made himself comfortable in her kitchen, pulling out a large bowl, a whisk, a cutting board, a chef's knife, and a skillet. He moved so gracefully, even under the ridiculous flannel shirt, and with such confidence that she couldn't help wondering if he was X-raying the cupboards as he went or if he just remembered where everything was from when he'd cleaned her apartment back when it was ransacked. Since he wasn't constantly tipping his glasses down, she suspected it was the latter.

While the skillet heated, he chopped up mushrooms and green onion quicker than sight, and she chuckled. "Hungry?"

He gave her a sidelong smile and shrugged. "I get energy from the sun, but not things like protein or vitamins. I do need to eat sometimes, but I would have been fine with a peanut butter sandwich."

"So...hungry."

He chuckled. "Yes."

He cracked the eggs one-handed, and Lois asked, "Where did you learn to cook?"

He cast her a curious glance and, as he beat the eggs and added milk, he said, "My mom. She's a good cook and since she didn't have any daughters to teach, she improvised."

"Ah."

Lois felt like she was watching a cooking show as he sautéed the mushrooms and onions, added spices, and then transferred all that to another bowl. Then he started about a third of the egg mixture cooking. Lois would have just mixed it all together (if she had bothered to cook at all), and called it good.

"Oh!" he said, and crossed her small kitchen to the grocery bag still sitting on the counter. He retrieved a rounded loaf of bread and said, "Almost forgot the rosemary brioche. Do you want it toasted?"

"Sure," she answered, feeling ridiculously spoiled. If this was his idea of eating in, she might not ever eat out again!

Deciding such a nice meal deserved a better setting than "kicked back on the couch," she started setting the kitchen table. As she reached for the glasses, she realized they only had water to drink, and Lois frowned thoughtfully. Maybe she should invest in a bottle or two of wine. She'd learned back in college it wasn't a good idea for her to drink by herself, so she never kept any alcohol at home. Eyeing Clark as he put the finishing touches on her omelet, she felt a swell of hope that he would be a regular around her apartment.

He snagged a plate from the table and carefully placed the omelet on it then started the second one cooking.

Before she knew it, the second omelet was done, the toast was buttered, and Clark was pulling out her chair for her.

Lois grinned as she sat down. She could definitely get used to this.

"So," Clark said as he cut into his omelet, "what progress did you make on the story while I was out?"

"Just got some quotes transcribed and added."

"Do we want to take another day or two and explore those other factors Sgt. Kelley mentioned?"

Lois frowned thoughtfully. "We've got a pretty substantial article as-is. Maybe it would make a good follow-up piece next week, though, to take a more in-depth look at the human side of it."

Clark nodded, apparently satisfied with that, and focused on eating.

Lois savored several bites before a question occurred to her. "Where did you get the feta? I mean, the nearest place to buy a gallon of milk is the 7-Eleven two blocks up, and I doubt they carry it. Did you fly to Greece?"

He chuckled and wiped his mouth before answering. "No need to fly anywhere. There's a little specialty grocer one subway station down. It's near that Chinese place we went to in December, actually."

Lois felt like Watson being punked by Sherlock Holmes when she realized that Clark knew her neighborhood better than she did. "Hm. I never noticed it."

Clark grinned and rescued the third omelet from the stove. "Did you want to split it?" He asked. Lois shook her head, and Clark returned to their previous conversation. "Next time we'll go to that store together."

She nodded in agreement. "Just how much time did you spend stalking me and studying maps of Metropolis before you moved here?"

Clark's grin faded, and he looked down. A small part of Lois was pleased she'd punked him back, but mostly she wished she had thought a little bit more about the question before asking it. "Stalking's the wrong word."

"No," he softly answered, still looking down. "I did use my superpowers to check in on you. Usually just once or twice a day."

"Really?" Lois was pleasantly surprised it was that often.

He lifted his gaze again, and searched her face. "You're not angry?"

"No. Well, I mean, I assume you didn't watch me shower or - "

"No," he interrupted, "nothing like that. I just checked to make sure that you were okay."

She shrugged. "Then why would I be angry?"

"You were being spied on more than enough already," he said, and Lois could see it was still a sore point for him.

"Yeah, but those peeping toms weren't my boyfriend."

Lois hadn't meant to punk him with that one, but he froze at the word 'boyfriend' and a slow smile spread across his face.

Had he forgotten that little fact? Or was he really that in awe of if? Probably the latter, and it made her own heart soar to realize that.

She chuckled and stood to clear her now-empty plate. "And boyfriend? Thank you for making dinner."

"Of course," he said, still a little stunned.

Grinning to herself, she went back over to the living room and, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, woke her laptop back up. "Want to hear the draft as it now stands?"

"Sure."

As she read through the draft, Clark finished eating, did the washing up, and came to sit on the couch behind her. When she finished reading, she rested her arms on his knees (which were on either side of her) and turned slightly so she could see his face. "What do you think?"

"I think you're still giving Superman too much credit," he said, leaning forward (close enough for her to catch of whiff of his clothes, and the scent reminded her of wind and sunshine) to point to one of paragraphs. "Sgt. Kelley put him at the bottom of the list, but you open with the quote about him being a fantastic ally for the department."

"Clark, I mean this in the kindest possible way, but you're biased on this one. Trust me, people will want to read more about Superman than they will blue-collar jobs."

He sighed in resignation, and Lois turned her attention back to the article, combing it over for stray typos. Finally she leaned back against the couch again.

"Good to go?" he asked.

"I think so." And she saved it to her DropBox for Perry.

"Good," Clark said, and Lois was suddenly aware that he was leaning close to read her screen over her shoulder when he was capable of reading it from outside the building. He didn't _have_ to hover over her – he wanted to.

It was such a small gesture, but it made her hyper-aware that they had at least an hour before he had to leave to get ready for his construction job, and all the spy devices in her apartment were gone. With a few possible exceptions, that is.

She closed her laptop and flipped it over so she could pull the battery out. Her cell phone was next to the laptop on the coffee table, so she removed the battery from it, too. When she glanced up at Clark, he was giving her a cautious look, and it almost made her laugh. "I don't kiss and tell," she said by way of explanation.

He fought a smile and adorably lost, which really was disconcerting with the flannel shirt. Maybe she could even convince him to take it off, and all the better if he really did have the suit on underneath.

She stood and unplugged the smart TV before joining him on the couch and tucking her feet under her. He had taken his glasses off sometime during their writing session, and she reached out to let her fingers run through his hair.

Without a word, he shifted so he was angled more toward her, and she leaned closer, rising up a little on her knees to kiss him. He gently returned it, his hand caressing her cheek.

Warm affection rushed through her, but she held herself in check, matching his deliberate but intense pace. She'd long ago stopped being frustrated with his easily-overwhelmed super-senses. There was something almost teasing about the way he savored and explored her with every touch and kiss. It was different - or maybe alien was the better word - for her to take her time like this, but Clark had opened her eyes in so many ways.

Eventually he leaned back, looking stunned and short of breath, and Lois smiled in satisfaction that she could knock the wind out of Superman. Relaxing back to sit on her heels again, she said, "I've been paying attention to the wrong things tonight."

He smiled shyly. "No. Even I know better than to get in the way when you've got a story to write."

She chuckled and leaned in for another kiss. Somehow over the course of the next half-hour, she ended up sitting across his lap, all but melting into his arms. He'd just taken another pause to catch both his breath and his focus when his cell phone started beeping.

"Time's up?" Lois sadly asked.

"Gotta get ready for my full-time job," he confirmed, stealing one last, lingering kiss.

She smiled and caressed his face, feeling a hint of stubble. It reminded her that he'd never answered her question about how he shaved. With him working at the Planet now, maybe she'd finally be able to weasel it out of him. "See you tomorrow?"

He gently maneuvered her from his lap to the couch and rose to his feet. Putting his glasses and suit-coat back on, he said, "Yes. Where we get to do this all again."

A little breathless at the thought, she grinned and said, "Deal."


	2. Memorial

Author's Note: Despite all evidence to the contrary, I am alive. Real life threw me a curveball that resulted in me not being able to write at all for more than half a year. Fortunately, things are settling down, and while I can't promise consistent updates, I will be able to post more often on this story now. Thanks for your patience, and hope you enjoy!

* * *

Lois spent the rest of March trying to wrap her head around having Clark for a co-worker, but by the time April rolled around, she was more or less used to the idea. Even Cat Grant found other reporters to people-watch after a few weeks and stopped looking up with interest whenever Clark approached Lois' desk. The fact that Lois was eventually able to speak to Clark without grinning like a fangirl probably helped Cat lose interest. Familiarity couldn't stop Lois' heart from warming, though, when he'd find an excuse to touch her – her hand, her shoulder, even just bumping into her "on accident." It made him look like the office klutz, and she had to fight to smother her grin.

By day, they worked together, usually on the same story, though every now and then she encouraged him to write companion pieces to their articles, hoping to increase his confidence. Once he understood her motives, he was enthusiastic about the idea.

She and Clark frequently spent evenings at her place, though more often than not, the Suit meant dinner was cut short or she ate alone, but that became just another part of this new rhythm of her life. After all, she felt only slightly less inexperienced than Clark at this whole clingy, in-a-relationship thing and wasn't particularly bothered by a little solitude. All-in-all, Lois had never been happier in her adult life, and quite possibly not even in her childhood.

So it wasn't a particular surprise when Clark IM'd her on Tuesday afternoon in mid-April. "Are you busy?"

"Not too busy for you," she wrote back, smiling but exercising the self-control to not glance at him.

"They're holding a press conference at City Hall. Apparently they're unveiling the initial plans for a memorial downtown, and Perry wants me to cover it. He said to bring you along if you weren't too busy with your spider. Is that some kind of journalism slang I haven't heard yet?"

Lois shook her head in amusement and locked her workstation. Grabbing her tote, she crossed the bullpen to Clark, who apparently was still waiting for her to reply. "Well, Podunk, you coming?"

Clark lifted his gaze to hers with a knowing twinkle in his eyes and said, "Smallville. I'm from _Smallville_. Podunk isn't even a real place."

"Whatever. Save your work and let's go."

Lois managed to maintain her brusque manner all the way to the taxi cab, but as soon as they were safely anonymous, she placed her hand over his.

He smiled down at her simple gesture and turned his hand so that their fingers intertwined. There was an intensity in his expression that surprised her as he contemplated their clasped hands. "Thank you," he eventually said, "for coming with me."

"Of course," she answered, puzzled but pleased by his reaction. In a voice low enough that only he would hear, she added, "And the thing about the spider was just an analogy for a certain philanthropist that we've been investigating."

"Ah." His smile slipped into something slightly exasperated when he glanced up at her. "Back home we would have called it digging up snakes. Probably useless, definitely dangerous."

She smirked at the mental image, but aloud she said, "So…you're working on reconstruction. Do you have any insider information about this memorial?"

He relaxed against the seat back. "Not much – just that it will be located at pretty much the point where the World Engine had been. I've also heard that debris ash will be mixed into the concrete for it."

Lois considered that. For many families, that ash was sacred. Relatively few bodies were recovered; most of them were incinerated or pulverized to oblivion in the destruction. "That's not going to go over well with some people – using human remains for construction material."

Clark shrugged. "It's just a rumor."

"Until we confirm it."

They arrived at City Hall, showed their press passes, and were ushered along with a herd of reporters to the room where the press conference was being held. There was a large table covered with black cloth, and Lois assumed it was a scale model of the memorial. Glancing up at Clark, she whispered, "Sneak a peek."

He gave her an incredulous look, and she nodded pointedly toward the table. In an even lower voice, she said, "I don't want to be asking questions on a knee-jerk basis."

He frowned thoughtfully but tipped his glasses down. When he pushed them back up his nose a moment later, his frown had deepened to actual displeasure.

"What?"

Leaning close, he softly said, "There's going to be a larger-than-life statue of ...of Superman."

It made sense to Lois - Superman _was_ larger than life. Even knowing the human side of him, there was still a part of her that was a fawning fangirl. But she could guess why Clark would be unsettled by it.

"What else?" she hissed.

Still speaking directly into her ear, he said, "Pretty standard, otherwise. A park with reflecting pools and black marble walls. I assume the names of the dead will be engraved on them."

"Where does the ash come in?"

"Maybe it doesn't." He shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

The mayor walked in with her entourage then, and Lois turned her attention to the podium.

"Thank you for joining us," she began. "Today marks eight months since the battle that brought our city to its knees. With the coming of spring and favorable weather for construction, we as a city government will start the transition from mourning to rebuilding. In light of that, it seemed appropriate to unveil our plans for a memorial park in the area most heavily damaged by the World Engine."

The mayor nodded to an assistant, and he pulled the cloth covering away from the model. Cameras snapped photos around her, including Clark's, and Lois looked more closely at the central figure of the memorial. It was Superman in a classic pose - hands on his hips with cape billowing behind him - but his head was bowed in either respect or grief. Lois found herself frowning, too. The sculpture didn't capture the pathos of that day or, more importantly, the depth of Clark's caring.

The mayor continued, "The memorial's proposed name is Heroes Park. It will consist of reflecting pools, green space and gardens, and the central feature will be the memorial walls and Superman statue. The names of the dead will be recorded on the walls."

"Can you confirm whether or not debris ash will be used in construction of the memorial?" Lois interjected, and she was pleased by the murmur of surprise that rippled through the reporters around her. It was a minor scoop, but still.

"I'll let Jacques Michaud, the architect who designed the park, answer that." The mayor turned to a middle-aged man next to her and, stepping aside, gestured that he speak into the microphone.

"Even though gardens will grow above it, the entire area is sacred ground," he said. "In designing this memorial, I wanted to emphasize that. So yes, debris ash from the clearing created by the World Engine will be included in the cement under the marble in the reflecting walls and in the Superman statue."

"Wait, what?" Clark blurted out. "Even the Superman statue?"

"It will be cast, not carved," the architect said.

Lois glanced at Clark, and he was beyond uneasy with all this.

"What's the timeline for the memorial's construction?" another reporter asked, and the mayor stepped up to the podium again.

"We will begin with a public comment period for the next month, and we'll have an official groundbreaking on Memorial Day. The site will be developed in several stages, each taking about a year. While the grounds might still be in progress, we anticipate having the actual memorial complete in time for the one-year anniversary of the battle."

Lois nodded slightly in understanding. That explained the rush.

Other reporters continued to ask questions about the cost of the memorial, if there would be additional information on the city's website, and if there would be any sections devoted to military or emergency response personnel (and Lois' thoughts flitted to Colonel Hardy at that one). She jotted down the answers to the questions but was too distracted by worry for Clark to come up with any others of her own. He seemed to be more troubled by the moment.

After another ten minutes of Q&A, the press conference ended and most of the reporters started filing out of the room. Clark lingered, though, drifting closer to the model of the memorial and staring at it intently.

After several minutes, they were the only reporters left, and Clark still hadn't even blinked as near as she could tell. She'd seen him do this once before with the Valentine's Day card she'd made for him. Lois suspected it was some kind of mental super-focus because last time he hadn't pulled out of it until Martha touched him.

They were in a professional setting so Lois couldn't exactly kiss him out of it, but she moved closer to him and let the back of her hand rest against his.

He drew a sharp breath and stirred like he was shaking himself out of it before glancing down at her with a small smile. "Sorry."

"No problem. Let's head back to the Planet and get this written up."

He nodded in agreement and followed her out.

There were still a half-dozen reporters trying to hail cabs, so Lois paused at the top of City Hall's steps. Clark continued down a pace before he realized she'd stopped, so he turned and gave her a curious look.

It was the first time she could remember being eye-to-eye with him and it made her smile. "We need to talk – _you_ need to talk – but I don't think even a cab is private enough for this conversation."

"Probably not," he agreed, looking down.

"If I spring for Chinese take-out and we go to my place after work, do you think you can keep from getting lost in your thoughts between now and then? Because that was…weird. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were having a seizure or something."

He chuckled mirthlessly before meeting her gaze again. "Sorry about that, and yes, I can stay on track." His forced smile didn't reach his eyes when he offered her his arm and added, "But you don't have to play amateur shrink to get a date with me, Lois. All you have to do is ask – and I'll even pay."

She looped her arm through his. "Now that would just be taking advantage of you, _Smallville_."

He smirked. "You got the name right."

...

They submitted the story at quarter 'til five o'clock, and Lois suggested they leave a few minutes early. Heaven and Perry both knew the two of them pulled their own weight and then some. As usual, they rode the elevator in silence. Clark was still broody – something about the set of his mouth gave him away – and Lois had a good guess that the whole thing with the statue was a big part of it.

Once they were safely out on the sidewalk, she said, "You know, they _are_ having a public comment period on the memorial."

Clark looked at her sharply and then shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Too bad Superman doesn't have a verified email address."

Lois tilted her head in acknowledgment but smiled as she said, "When he makes an appearance, it's pretty undeniable that it's him."

He glanced at her again, his eyes thoughtful. "That's true."

Lois smiled that at least he was considering ways of fixing this instead of just getting grumpy on her. She happily let that thought stew while they walked the rest of the way to the subway platform. While they waited, Clark pulled up the menu on his phone for the Chinese place they'd gone to last December, and Lois used her cell to call in their order for take-out.

Their train pulled into the station just a minute or two after she hung up. The cars were packed, but they managed to find a place where they could at least stand next to each other.

Leaning close, Clark said, "I can pay for my own food."

She smiled up at him. "I want to take care of _you_ for a change."

Some of the sparkle was returning to his eyes, and he said, "I'll arm-wrestle you for it."

Lois barked out a laugh and shook her head. "Not a chance, Kent. I might let you flip a coin once we get there, though."

"Deal."

Outside the restaurant, Clark pulled a quarter out of his pocket and Lois snatched it from his palm. "Call it in the air."

She flipped it, and he said, "Heads."

Catching it in the air, she slapped it to her arm and then a grin spread across her face. "Tails. I get to treat you tonight."

He sighed in frustration as he took the quarter back, muttering, "Traitor," at it before pocketing it again. Then he held the door for her.

As she crossed the threshold, Lois realized Clark would probably struggle with being rescued instead of being the rescuer. It made her sigh as determination welled up in her. That was the thing about a partnership – turnabout was fair play. Reciprocity was what held any relationship together, whether it was writing partners, boyfriend and girlfriend, or Superman and humanity. If he wanted in on all this, he was going to need to learn how to receive and not just give.

Lost in her thoughts, Lois quietly paid for their meal, but Clark insisted on carrying the bagged-up boxes and Lois shook her head indulgently at him before looping her arm through his.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked when they were out on the street again.

"That I'm going to have to pick my battles tonight."

He blinked a couple of times in surprise. "I admit that wasn't what I was expecting."

Lois chuckled and glanced up at his brilliant blue eyes. "I was thinking that there's give _and_ take in any relationship, and that you don't take anywhere near enough. But I'll let you juggle the take-out this time."

"You did pay for dinner," he pointed out.

"That was the luck of the toss."

"You still did. _And_ you had to put up with those spy devices for far too long. That was a big sacrifice you made because of me."

"But not _for_ you," Lois shot back. "It was just something I had to deal with – it didn't directly benefit you in any way."

He frowned thoughtfully, and they walked in companionable silence back to the subway.

The platform was even more crowded this time and they were lucky to end up on the same car. Standing together wasn't possible, much less having an actual conversation. So it wasn't until they had escaped Lois' subway stop and were up on her street that Clark said, "You do more for me than I think you realize."

A smile twitched on Lois' lips – she had successfully distracted him from the dark cloud that had been following him ever since the press conference. "Like what?"

"Like my job at the Daily Planet. You helped me clean up that editorial back in October, you taught me literally everything I know about journalism, and you've mentored me for more than a month now."

Lois had enjoyed having him around so much that she'd never thought of it like that.

"You were my first real ally," he added, "and my fiercest."

She actually laughed at that, and he sharply said, "What?"

"I'm fierce on paper, but the thought of me being..." She glanced at the other pedestrians around them and whispered, "Superman's fiercest ally..."

"You are, and it's invaluable," he interrupted. "No question."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Fiercer than Colonel Hardy?"

"He didn't willingly walk with m... Superman into Zod's spaceship," Clark pointed out.

"That just makes me adventuresome, not fierce," Lois answered.

"Regardless, you walked into the lion's den for Superman that day. If that's not 'taking' I don't know what is."

They reached Lois' apartment building, and she opened the door and held it for Clark with an exasperated sigh. As they crossed the lobby to the elevator, she said, "My Battle of Metropolis piece was nominated for a Pulitzer. If I win – and, frankly, no other piece comes close to rivaling mine – I'll be literally profiting from the whole experience. I took, too."

Clark tilted his head with an amused twinkle in his eye. "Is our first fight really going to be over who's the bigger drain on the other?"

Lois punched the button for her floor and smirked. "Apparently."

He straightened his tie. "Well in that case..."

They bantered back and forth all the way through dinner about who had done more for the other. Lois was honestly surprised at how many things he counted as favors from her, and trying to one-up him with his perfect memory kept her on her toes.

"And then there's your mom," she eventually said, fishing sweet-and-sour shrimp out of her take-out box with her chopsticks.

He was tipped back in his chair, toying with his kung pao chicken (he'd already finished the beef and broccoli he'd ordered), and a boyish grin spread across his face. "You're bringing my mother into our first fight? That's a low blow."

Lois threw one of her shrimp at Clark. Punk superhero that he was, he caught it in his mouth, even though he had to levitate to do it.

"I was _going_ to say I wouldn't have known her at all if it weren't for you."

He chewed for a moment as he settled back into his chair. "But you make her happy, which is me taking again."

Lois fought a smile. "No, that's your mom taking, and that's between her and me."

"Now that's a scary thought," he muttered, and Lois tilted her head curiously, so he added, "You and my mom ganging up."

She smirked. "You started that one."

"True," he admitted.

Lois stood to stretch and started folding up her take-out box. "I'm stuffed. Are you about done?"

"Sure," he said, and gently took the box from her hand to put it away. Lois didn't protest, but only because she had other plans. While he took care of the food, she retrieved a couple of goblets and a bottle of wine from the fridge door. Maybe it would loosen his tongue a little bit and get him to open up to her. Clark's smile was almost shy when he accepted the goblet she offered him, and she raised her glass. "What shall we toast to?"

"Friendship?" Clark suggested.

While other girlfriends might be put off by that, Lois had appreciated from very early on in their relationship just how rare and precious friendship was to Clark. It was his way of saying he cherished her, and she clinked her goblet to his. "To friendship."

When they'd both downed a swallow or two, Lois took him by the hand and led him to the couch. As he took his seat, she settled into the far corner and sat facing him. "So...what happened back there?"

He looked down, the joy and affection and light about him instantly gone, and it drove home to Lois just how much their easy banter tonight had been a disguise as much as the Suit was. "Perfect memory," he softly answered. "I was reliving that day, the day of the battle."

Lois frowned thoughtfully. "Like a PTSD flashback?"

The look he gave her was one of consternation. "Maybe. But it sometimes happens with good memories, too."

"Like when it happened on the day after Valentine's Day?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You're good."

She shrugged. "I pay attention to things that interest me."

His smile was wry. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Her own lips tugged up in an answering smile. "Do. But you know I don't derail that easily."

"Yeah," he agreed, just a hint of regret creeping into his voice. "I know." The wry smile faded as he gathered his thoughts. "I think it's related to my ability to fly somehow, or maybe to how my parents taught me to filter out my powers when I don't want them."

Lois straightened a little. In their conversations over the last several weeks, he'd never mentioned a time when he _didn't want_ his powers.

He didn't seem to notice her movement, though, and softly continued, "The memories are perfect, and almost as vivid as when I was living them. Sometimes I get…swept away by the more intense ones. When that happens, I usually need a cue – a touch, something more vivid than memory – to pull me out of it. Or I wait for the memory to finish playing out."

"So…to any casual observer, it would just look like you were daydreaming?"

He lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "Probably. Is that what it looked like to you?"

"At first, yeah. But it was going on for a long time."

"So did the Battle of Metropolis."

"Why…" She hesitated, wondering if it was too personal of a question to ask why he wouldn't want his powers, or if he would think she was slipping into reporter mode, which she kind of was.

"Yes?" he asked.

"It's not important."

"I can see the question spinning away in your mind like a gear, Lois. Not really," he added when she jolted in surprise. "But you may as well ask it."

She smiled at herself for taking him literally and decided his honesty deserved some of hers. "As a friend, I'm just curious, so you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but…why on Earth would you ever _not_ want your powers? I mean, I can see why the memory thing could make everyone think you were daydreaming, but that seems so minor…"

"It hurt," he said.

Lois felt her jaw drop. "I didn't think you could get hurt."

"I'm…less vulnerable now, but back then, when the powers first started manifesting themselves, they were overwhelming." He looked down, fidgeting with the goblet in his hands. "We didn't know what they were, and they were pretty sporadic at first, only becoming more constant as I got older. Everything would be perfectly normal, and then I'd blink and my teacher would look like she'd been skinned alive. The sound of chalk squeaking on a blackboard physically hurt. Everything was too bright, too loud, too rough." He glanced up at her and then away again. "I was a freak. Nowadays they'd probably have me evaluated for autism or something with how oversensitive I was, but back then, it just scared the tar out of me and probably everybody else."

It made Lois smile to hear him use the polite, Kansas farm-boy euphemism, and she impulsively moved close enough to rest her hand on one of his. For the first time, she realized that his powers might be as much curse as they were blessing. It also explained a lot of who he was today – his suffering then contributed to his compassion now.

"You're not a freak," she firmly said. "You're beautiful."

He chuckled at that, and lifted his gaze back up to hers. The sparkle in his eyes was back, and it made her heart squeeze in unexpected ways. "Look who's talking."

She couldn't think of a retort to that and instead leaned in for a kiss. Fortunately, Clark was happy to oblige.

Unfortunately, he flinched a moment later in a way that was already too familiar.

Her eyes fluttered open, and Lois sat back, doing her best to hide her disappointment. "Trouble?"

"Yes," he said, already in the Suit and opening the balcony door. Still, he paused long enough to give her a warm smile full of promise. "See you tomorrow." Then he was gone with a shock of misting, April air.

Sighing now that he was out of earshot, Lois crossed the living room and shut the glass door. (They'd figured out during Clark's first week at The Planet that it was much better for her apartment's security deposit if they let the one who wasn't in a supersonic hurry do the door-shutting.) Lois looked out into the gray and dismal evening and whispered, "See you tomorrow, Clark."


	3. Little Green Alien

Lois was just turning on her work computer the next morning when Jenny stopped at her desk. "Have you checked your voicemail yet?"

Lois glanced up at the younger woman. "Pardon?"

Jenny blushed faintly. "Melissa down in reception wanted me to check. She said she got a call first thing from some lady named Martha who really wanted…"

She trailed off as Lois swiveled her chair and grabbed her phone's handset.

"Good thing I asked," Jenny muttered as she continued on her way.

Lois made a mental note to apologize to Jenny later. She impatiently skipped past three other messages before she finally heard Martha's voice.

"Hi Lois, this is Martha. I'm sorry to bother you at work, but I don't have any other way to contact you. Clark called around 10 o'clock my time last night talking about being sick. He was trying to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal, but, well, the last time he threw up was when he ate twenty pounds of potatoes. This was different – he _sounded_ sick. I'm looking at flights to Metropolis, but it'd be at least a day before I arrive. Can you be my eyes and ears until I get there? My cell phone number is…"

Lois scrambled to find a pen and jotted the number down on her hand. She rewound the message far enough to double-check that she had Martha's number right and then punched in the code to save the message. Frowning thoughtfully, she logged into her computer and, as it finished booting, texted Martha. "This is Lois and now you have my cell phone number, too. Got your message, and he hasn't said a word to me. Normally he comes to work around noon. I'll talk to him then and get back to you."

Lois debated for only a brief moment whether she should text Clark herself. If he was following his normal routine, he'd be asleep right now, and she wouldn't want to wake him up after a full shift at the construction site if he forgot to silence his phone or whatever. On the flip side, Martha was hardly the kind of person Lois would describe as a helicopter parent. If she was making plans to fly to Metropolis, she was convinced there was something seriously wrong.

Deciding that it was too early in the morning to play the needy, clingy girlfriend, Lois set down her phone and turned her attention to thinning out her email inbox. She'd talk to him when he came in, and if he didn't come in, then she'd decide what action to take. In the back of her mind, though, the thought kept churning away: if something was capable of making _him_ sick, why hadn't he contacted _her_?

She managed to keep herself distracted with actual work until she heard Perry bellow, "Clark Kent!" a little before noon. Her head jerked up and she saw Clark standing in front of their editor. He looked kind of pale, but Lois wasn't sure if that was because he was under the weather or because he was under fire.

Perry brandished a printed sheet of paper and continued to shout loudly enough for the whole bullpen to hear. "Superman shows up drunk for a rescue at _your_ reconstruction site last night, and the Metropolis Inquisitor scooped us on it! Care to explain that?"

Clark said something in a low voice, and Perry hollered, "Speak up!"

"I wasn't feeling well last night," Clark answered, raising his voice just enough that it carried all the way to Lois. "I called in sick so I wasn't there to witness it."

Perry harrumphed, and Lois fought a smile. He'd clearly been stymied by the answer but wasn't ready to forgive and forget yet.

"Were you puking?" Perry demanded. "In the hospital? Dead?"

Clark's brow furrowed in confusion. "No, sir."

"Then next time I expect you to do your job! This is your first strike, Kent!" Turning on his heel, Perry marched into his office and slammed the door.

Clark stood in stunned silence for a moment, and Lois chuckled as she made her way toward him. Now that he was no longer in the cross-hairs of Perry's ire, his color was improving, and he managed a weak smile when he noticed her.

"Well, I guess you're officially part of the Daily Planet now," she said. At Clark's incredulous look, she added, "A public dressing down by Perry is practically an initiation rite."

"Or a way to weed out the weak," he muttered.

"Good thing _you're_ made of sterner stuff," she couldn't help replying.

Instead of giving her a smirk in answer, though, a shadow of worry flickered in his eyes.

Martha's message came back to her in a rush, and Lois held her hand palm up so he could see the phone number she'd written there.

His eyes widened in surprise, and then his whole body drooped in resignation. "Should have known you two would gang up on this one. Have you scheduled a conference room yet?"

"Nope. Wasn't sure you were going to make it in."

"Go ahead while I put my stuff away."

Lois watched him carefully as he went to the stringer desks, but he moved with a casual grace that couldn't possibly hide stiffness or pain. He looked tired, maybe a bit worn, but certainly not at death's door like Martha seemed to think. Of course, this was _Clark_ they were talking about. Anything less than super was cause for concern.

She turned back to her computer and reserved a room.

In the conference room, Lois pulled the battery out of her cell phone and unplugged the landline phone on the table. Those were the only potential eavesdropping devices she knew of – she'd grabbed a pad of paper for the look of the thing and left her laptop behind. "Any creepy crawlies?" she asked as she sat down.

Clark shook his head. "No bugs – we're clear."

"So who's right – your mom who thinks you're sick or the Metropolis Inquisitor story about you being drunk?"

He sat heavily in the chair opposite her. "I can't get drunk, not really. Metabolism's too high or something."

Lois frowned thoughtfully. "Never tell your mom that I doubted her as a source. Are you okay?"

Clark stared at the table between them. "I'm not entirely sure. When I left your apartment, I went to the reconstruction site. They're doing some final cleaning up to make way for the memorial park, and a crane they were setting up had shifted off-balance. I righted it and then I got hit by a headache and a wave of dizziness and nausea."

"Just like that?" Lois asked when he lapsed into silence.

He shrugged, and his gaze darted to her and away again. "Pretty much. I felt weak, too. It took a lot of effort just to make it to the top of the nearest building. I didn't dare fly any further than that, so I changed there, returned to street level, and took a cab home."

"You waited until you were home to call your mom, right?"

He gave her a wary look. "No, I called her from the top of the building. The headache was bad enough that I just laid there for a little while and…caught my breath, I guess."

Lois turned his words over in her mind, trying to make sense of them. "And you have no idea what caused all this?"

"No, not a clue. I've never felt like that before in my life."

"How long did the sickness last altogether?"

He gave her a halfhearted smile. "Depends on how you define it. The headache started to ease up after a few minutes, but the nausea took a bit longer to wear off. Maybe an hour or two. And I woke up this morning _ravenously_ hungry, but I'm not sure if that's an after-effect or not."

Lois tapped her pen against the notepad thoughtfully as she considered follow-up questions. "Do you remember anything unusual about the site? Anything out of place?"

Clark tilted his head and considered that. "I do remember one thing…about the size of a quarter. It was green and glowing in the dust, but…" He shrugged, and Lois was inclined to agree with him. There was no way some kid's toy or dropped watch or something would bring the Man of Steel to his knees.

An image flashed through her mind – Clark collapsing when they arrived on Zod's ship. "What if it's something Kryptonian?" Lois blurted out. He'd been forced to adjust to his native environment, and that had left him physically ill and vulnerable, too. Could this object be doing something similar?

Sitting up straighter, he said, "It was near where the World Engine had been. Most of it got sucked into that singularity, but we've found a few bits and pieces of it that apparently didn't get pulled past the event horizon."

"I'd put money on the green thing being from the World Engine. We need to know more, though. Think you could get me onto the site?"

His worried expression told her his answer before he even opened his mouth. "The place was crawling with Lex Corp scientists who were overseeing removal of the wreckage. Somebody on the construction crew probably already found it and turned it over to them. I'd be honestly surprised if it wasn't already locked away in a lab somewhere."

"Wait, did you say Lex Corp?"

Clark tilted his head curiously. "Yeah? They're doing the clean-up and reconstruction."

Lois wasn't sure if she should be laughing or freaking out. "Superman is working for Lex Luthor?"

He chuckled in answer. "Hardly. I work for Alejandro Moreno who reports to his supervisor who reports to the Metropolis division of Lex Construction, which is a subsidiary that Lex Corp bought a few months ago. They were Hanford Tech before that."

Lois nodded, remembering that particular incident and her role in exposing Mr. Hanford's illegal activities. "Alright, fine, but I still say you're working for Lex Luthor. All the more reason to get you a real job where you aren't beholden to a boss I might or might not be trying to take down." That sobering thought left her drifting toward freaking out again. "I'm not happy about Lex Luthor having his hands on something that could hurt you."

"You're making a mountain out of a molehill." She opened her mouth to protest, and he added, "As far as the rest of the world is concerned, I had one too many beers before last night's rescue. They have no reason to think whatever it was could hurt me. We're not even sure that the green thing is what threw me for a loop last night. It's just a guess."

Lois sighed in frustration. "Why do I get the feeling this is more about keeping me away from your job site?"

He frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you don't want me anywhere near that green thing."

Guilt flickered in his eyes. "You don't want me anywhere near it, do you?"

"It didn't leave your human coworkers writhing in pain."

He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't writhing."

But he had been in pain. "You know what I mean."

He huffed. "That still doesn't mean it's safe for you to be hunting this thing down. It's probably not at the job site anymore, so you're talking about breaking into a lab with who knows what other Kryptonian gadgets that could incinerate or crush you, plus the very human danger of getting caught."

Her expression must have given away some of the annoyed disbelief she felt because he added, "I know you could if you wanted to, but it's just not worth the risk. In fact, the less attention we draw to the green thing, the better, if it's really what caused me to get sick last night."

Lois finally relented because he did have a point with that one. That left only one thing she could do for him. "Are you still hungry?"

He half-smiled. "Honestly? Yeah."

She gave him a genuine smile in answer. "Let go to Jeans Beans to get you second breakfast, and while we're there I'll call your mom and talk her down from raiding her life savings for an unnecessary flight to Metropolis."

The earnest adoration in his eyes warmed her all the way to her toes. " _Thank you_."

...

"Do you have plans for Memorial Day weekend?"

Lois blinked twice in surprise and looked up from the lasagna she'd been savoring. They were enjoying another evening at her place, and Clark's gourmet cooking was spoiling her rotten. "Since we've hit a dead end for now with the S.T.A.R Labs story, I was going to ask Perry if I should take a break next week and cover Heroes Park with you then. I haven't talked to him yet, though. Why?"

He leaned back in his chair, the picture of casual, and Lois was instantly alert. His shoulders were a little too stiff and her reporter's instincts were that he was nervous about whatever he was going to say next. "Mom was wondering if you'd like to come out to the farm over the long weekend."

Maybe her reporter's instincts weren't as good as she thought. She smiled at the idea of running away with him again. "That sounds really nice, actually, but I wouldn't want to inconvenience her."

Clark smiled in answer. "She wouldn't be put out at all. She covered for another lady at work over spring break, so she has a favor or two she can call in and take the whole three days off. After you saved the day with our little green alien, she wants to spend more time with you."

Lois snorted in amusement at his description of the probably-Kryptonian rock or whatever, but she was deeply flattered that Martha would make such efforts for her. "I'll put in my time off request before I turn in for the night."

Clark's shoulders finally relaxed.

"So should I book a flight or...?"

He smirked. "The flight's on me."

They were words she loved to hear.

…

The following Thursday, Lois pulled out a duffel bag and considered her wardrobe. Denim was the obvious choice for a weekend on the Kent farm, so she packed a pair of blue jeans and some cut-offs. Clark had specifically told her to bring some clothes she could get wet in, so she tossed a tankini into the bottom of the duffel, too. Farming community or not, she wouldn't be caught dead in a flannel shirt, if for no other reason than Clark would tease her about it for the rest of their lives. Instead she chose her Metropolis Zoo t-shirt, a beige boyfriend tee that flattered her nicely, and a simple gray hoodie in case it got chilly in the evenings. Thinking about evenings led her to consider pajamas. Most of the time she just slept in a camisole and panties, but she did have a silk pajama set, although that might seem a little too…Metropolis for the Kent farm. She also had some thermal underwear from her trip to the Arctic, but in terms of ever hoping to actually appeal to Clark in a sexual way, that would be an even worse choice than flannel. He'd never be able to look at her as anything other than "grandma" again.

Giving up there, Lois moved on to pack the rest of her clothes and some toiletries. She set out her tennis shoes and the clothes she would wear on the trip to Kansas, as well as a couple of granola bars on the kitchen counter for her grab on her way out the door.

With that, everything was packed except for her pajamas. Heaving a sigh, she pulled on her shoes again and grabbed her purse. The only way to fix this was going to be with a shopping trip.

An hour later, she returned to her apartment triumphant. It had taken looking in a couple of big-box stores (because at this hour, they were the only ones still open), but she'd finally found the perfect thing to wear at night on the farm: a blue knit nightgown that matched her eyes perfectly. The neckline was low enough and the hemline high enough to make Clark remember she was his girlfriend, but with the comfy material and long sleeves, it should also be down-home enough for Martha.

"You are in waaaay too deep," Lois muttered to herself as she stuffed the nightgown into her duffel bag. But she'd known that for months now.

Friday after work, Clark came over to Lois' house, they ate a dinner of hoagie sandwiches, and then it was just waiting for dark to escape town.

"So, how are we working this?" Lois asked as she gathered up her wallet and tablet to add to her duffel bag.

"Working...?"

"Flight."

"Ah." Clark smiled in understanding, and she couldn't help but smile in answer as she stooped beside her bag. He continued, "I bought that old Geo Metro we used last time. It runs now, mostly, and I added a bit of reinforcing hardware so I don't have to worry about panels blowing off in the wind. Between that and leaving here after dark so we don't have to dodge spectators, we should be able to make good time. I'd bet we'll be at the farm in less than three hours, depending on prevailing winds."

Lois chuckled at the memory of her banged up escape pod of a car. It was very thoughtful of him to make sure she was safe, but she vowed to herself that sometime this weekend she'd ask him to take her flying – _really_ flying. She straightened and did a double-take when she saw he'd changed into the Suit while she was distracted. The rosy gold of sunset had faded to lavender – it'd only be a few more minutes now.

Clark stepped close to her and gently rested his hands on her face. The happiness in his eyes almost took her breath away, and his kiss finally did. Gentle as always, his lips moved over hers with an intensity that left her melting a little. She surrendered to it, to him, to this stunning, impossible thing they shared. He loved her, and she loved him.

And then somewhere in the back of her professional-reporter brain, something clicked. He was so happy because he was making it official. He was bringing her home to meet his mom. Even though she'd technically met Martha months ago, it wasn't the same. That had been adversarial from the moment Lois had said the words "Daily Planet," and their other encounters had been fleeting. This time, though, she was going to visit Smallville as Clark's girlfriend. That's why he'd been nervous about inviting her to the farm, and Lois had been blindly oblivious to the significance of this trip until now.

Stunned and dismayed, Lois tried to search her own mind and heart. Was she ready for this? Anyone else and she'd say no, but this was Clark. And more importantly, this was Martha. Martha who was as strong as a fortress for her son, who had felt almost like a kindred spirit when they'd spent the evening together the day Superman "kidnapped" them both. Martha, the woman who had jointly with Jonathan taught Clark the meaning of compassion and kindness. If Martha was the matriarch whose inspection she'd have to pass this weekend...

"Lois?" Clark murmured against her lips.

He must have sensed her distraction, and she broke off the kiss. Resting her forehead against his, she was amazed to hear herself whisper, "I think I'm ready."

He met her gaze and searched her eyes for a long moment. Whatever he found in them made a classically-Clark smile light his face. "Let's go, then."

…

Because it was dark out when they landed in Kansas, Clark set the Geo down in the back yard and then opened the car door for Lois. She smiled as she accepted his offered hand and he helped her to her feet. He really was a sexist schmoozer, and she loved him for it. She intertwined her fingers with his, though, as they headed toward the house, her bag over his shoulder. He wasn't her co-worker here – he was her boyfriend.

Martha opened the back door, and Clark's dog Dusty came sprinting out to happily dance around them both. Martha openly grinned at them as they made their way up the porch stairs. "Glad you could make it. How was the flight?"

"A little bumpy over...where were we?" Lois asked, looking up at Clark.

He set Lois' bag down and caught Martha in a hug with his free arm, still holding tightly to Lois' hand. "Indianapolis," he said in answer. "It's good to see you, Mom."

"Love you, son," she murmured in answer, and something ached a little in Lois' heart. When was the last time she'd had such a warm welcome from her parents?

"Love you, too," Clark said and then straightened. Lois thought she saw a flicker of worry when he glanced at her, but to his mom he said, "There was a pretty good thunderstorm we had to go around."

"It was gorgeous to see, though," Lois said. "And the stars were just beautiful, too. I have no complaints – I'll fly Air Kent anytime."

Martha caught Lois in a surprising hug, too, and Clark finally let go of her hand. Stepping back from Lois, Martha smiled up at Clark. "Air Kent probably doesn't provide much in refreshments, and I'd bet your pilot's hungry enough to eat a horse. Come on in!"

"It does smell pretty amazing," Lois allowed as she followed Martha into the house.

Martha already had the table ready for them, and she'd gone all-out: a pot roast, hot home-made rolls, a green salad, and strawberry shortcake for dessert.

"I'm sorry we made you wait so late in the evening for dinner," Lois said as she served herself some salad.

"I forgot to turn the oven on for the first half-hour," Martha confided. "So the timing worked out perfectly."

Lois had eaten enough of Clark's cooking to know his teacher was a master. She didn't believe for a second that Martha would make a rookie mistake like that, but Lois let the white lie slip. It was a kind one, after all.

Martha gestured with her butter knife. "But tell me about the story you're working on now. Clark said it had something to do with a theft from S.T.A.R. Labs?"

"Anthrax theft, yes," Lois answered. "And we're not sure it's a theft – all we know is there's a batch of samples that's unaccounted for. There was an attempt at cover-up, but a whistle-blower came to us. That whole department is going through a shakedown now, but the scary thing is they still have no idea where the anthrax went or how long it's been missing."

"That _is_ scary," Martha agreed. "Do you have any leads?"

That was enough to get Lois and Clark talking about their theories all through the rest of dinner and into dessert.

Lois insisted on helping with cleanup, but once the table was cleared and the dishwasher was running, Clark shooed them out of the kitchen so he could finish hand-washing the pots and pans for his mom. Martha scooped up Lois' duffel and led her up the stairs to get settled in for the night.

She stopped at the first bedroom door at the top of the stairs but gestured to the next bedroom over. "That's Clark's room – has been since the time he was a baby – and mine's on the end. This room doubles as a library and guest bedroom." She opened the door and Lois followed her in. There were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a threadbare couch, and a comfy-looking recliner holding a stack of bedding. "We have an airbed, but you're welcome to sleep on the couch or the recliner if that's more comfortable for you."

"Oh, don't bother with an airbed," Lois said. "That couch will be great."

"I'm sorry we don't have better accommodations," Martha began, but Lois waved away the apology.

"I've bivouacked in much rougher conditions," she said with a knowing smile. "This is ritzy compared to when I was embedded with the First Division."

Martha chuckled and started arranging the bed linens on the couch. "I keep forgetting you're tougher than an average city slicker."

Clark stepped into the doorway and leaned against the jam. "You're welcome to take my room, Lois," he said.

She fished around in the bottom of her duffel for her travel toothbrush. "This is fine."

"I'd feel badly about you sleeping in here."

"I'm already half-way settled in," Lois tried to protest.

"But it's the draftiest room in the house – it'll let all the air conditioning out and the heat in."

Lois wasn't sure if she should be amused or annoyed with him acting like a mother hen. Considering they were on vacation, she opted for amused. Straightening, she muttered under her breath, "If I'm going to be sleeping in your bed, Clark, it won't be alone."

He blushed to the ears as his glance darted to his mother, but she was obliviously plumping the pillows.

He opened his mouth with a comeback, Lois raised an eyebrow in challenge, and he shut it again. She knew that, with his mom here, he'd be the perfectly polite Kansas farm boy.

"There," Martha said, turning around to rejoin the conversation. She took in Clark's beet-red face and chuckled as she glanced at Lois. "The super-hearing comes in handy, doesn't it." Picking up the unnecessary airbed, she said, "Well, I'm beat, so I'll let you night-owls put yourselves to bed." Slipping past a dumbfounded Clark to step into the hall, she added, "Good night!"

Lois felt as thunderstruck as Clark looked. Had Martha _meant_ that comment about putting themselves to bed to be an innuendo?

"Good night, Lois," Clark said before she could recover, and he was gone.

"Coward," she grumbled as she crossed the hall to the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. She consoled herself that it was only Friday. She'd be here for three more days – and two more nights. Chaperon or no, they were bound to have some fun.


	4. Down Home

Lois swam toward consciousness, pushed there by the sound of a loud motor, and she grumpily wondered when construction crews started working on her apartment building. It wasn't until she opened her eyes to unfamiliar surroundings that her brain got with the program. She was in Smallville, not Metropolis. A shade had been drawn down over the window – a change from when she went to bed last night – but it only blocked out some of the morning sunbeams. Rolling the shade back up, she took in the sight. She'd chased stories from Anbar Province to the Arctic, but even she'd never have guessed that the most powerful being on Earth grew up with this view. Miniature corn plants – just a few inches high – stretched for as far as she could see, with the occasional silo or tree adding diversity to the skyline, such as it was.

But with all this unabashed nature stretching out before her, shouldn't she be waking up to a Disney-style serenade of songbirds or something? A motor? Really?

Sighing, she dressed and headed downstairs. There was a plate of pancakes on the table, with a place setting for one (her, she presumed), that even included an empty mug and a full coffee pot on the coffee maker. Clark knew her too well. When she reached for the pancakes, they were cold, and Lois grimaced. True, they were on the farm now, and she realized the Kents had already eaten breakfast, but still. She checked her cell phone and it was barely nine o'clock. At what ungodly hour had they gotten up? Lois took the hint Clark and Martha had left for her, though, microwaving her breakfast and then impatiently eating.

It was easy to find the others, after Lois had washed her breakfast dishes. All she had to do was follow the sound of that blasted motor. On the west side of the house, Clark was riding what looked to be a lawnmower, but it was pulling something that was tilling up the ground. Martha was standing in the shade of a tree and waved in welcome to her, and Clark cut the motor so he could hop down and cross the yard to them. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" Martha cheerfully greeted.

"Morning," Lois muttered, still not awake enough to be enthusiastic. "How long have you been up?"

"Oh, I don't sleep much past six," Martha said, "and Clark was up half an hour later. Hope you don't mind," she added, gesturing to the tractor or whatever it was. "We weren't sure how long you would sleep."

"I don't mind at all," Lois said as Clark stole a quick kiss. They were in front of his mother, but it wasn't often she got a jolt of Clark Kent into her system this early in the day. Standing on her tiptoes, she leaned in for another, longer kiss.

"I'll, um, just be inside for a moment," Martha said, and Clark started chuckling against Lois' lips.

"You're incorrigible," he murmured.

"And you love it," Lois retorted, stealing another kiss. She could get used to having Clark around in the mornings. He was even better than coffee.

When she came up for breath, he said, "As a matter of fact I do. But please don't drive off my mother."

Huffing in mock frustration, she said, "Alright, alright, fine. I'll behave."

"Only when she's around," he said with a wink, surprising her. He didn't often encourage her to misbehave. In a louder voice, he called, "It's safe to come out now, Mom! And bring those seeds, please."

"Seeds?" Lois wondered. "I thought the fields were already planted."

"They are," Clark said. "We were working on putting in her garden until you woke up. If there's something else you want to do today, we can, but I thought gardening might be novel for you."

Lois chuckled. "It is that. But I have to warn you – I have a brown thumb. I can't even keep aloes alive at home."

Martha joined them in time to catch her last sentence. "Oh don't worry about that – we're just getting everything tilled up and putting the beans and some melon seeds in today. Unless you want to do more."

Clark laughed, the sound so carefree and welcome that Lois couldn't help but grin. "Mom, let's just get this taken care of first!"

His mom chuckled and handed him a plastic bag with the seeds. Then she offered Lois a tube of sunscreen and a straw hat that matched her own. "Clark never gets burned, but you and I need a little protection from the sun."

It was already pretty hot, so it was with a faked sigh that Lois put the hat on. "At least it's not flannel."

Clark laughed again, and Lois was pleased she could be the one to bring that out in him this time. Martha and Clark were barefoot, and Lois didn't want to get her tennis shoes dirty since they were the only shoes she'd brought on the trip. Sitting down in the grass next to the garden, she pulled off her own shoes and socks, thinking, _When in Smallville..._ Just to be safe, she cuffed up her jeans, too, and wished she'd thought to put on her cutoffs instead.

When she stepped into the garden, the soil was pleasantly soft underfoot, and she wiggled her toes in delight. Clark was using a hoe to do most of the earth-moving at this point, but he'd already shaped a row that Martha was planting. Not seeing any other tools around that she could use to help Clark, she decided to join Martha. "So how do we do this?"

Martha patiently walked her through how to plant the beans, and they worked on parallel rows until both were planted. "Now these are pole beans," she said when they were done, taking her hat off and wiping her brow. "That makes 'em easier to harvest, but they'll also need some support."

"I've got it, Mom," Clark said. He rounded the shed and flew back a moment later holding a wire-and-beam frame of some kind.

Beside Lois, Martha huffed and leaned closer to her. "He's such a show-off for you, even though he knows better."

"I _can_ hear you," Clark pointed out as he placed the frame between the two rows Lois and Martha had planted.

"I know," his mom said, a smile splitting her face, "but did you listen?"

Clark shook his head, grinning, as his feet touched the earth again, but he was blushing and Lois came to his rescue. "He did spare us having to wrangle this thing all the way out here. What is it?"

"An A-frame trellis," he answered, walking toward one end while Martha took the other. They swung the beams apart from each other until the trellis' wire grids were lined up with the planted rows.

"So...the beans don't climb actual poles?" Lois asked, and Martha lightly laughed.

"Only sometimes. Now let's get those melon seeds in so we can go have some fun." Martha started toward the opposite corner of the garden, but when Lois moved to follow her, Clark stepped away from the trellis, bumping into her.

Just like at the Planet, he said, "Oh, excuse me, miss." He had the same twinkle in his eyes, too.

Unlike at the Planet, Lois playfully nudged him back with her shoulder as she continued on her way. "Watch it! I'm walking here!"

He fell in step just behind her and said in a low voice, "Oh, I'm watching."

Lois' jaw dropped and she wheeled on him. Grinning, he gently caught her face and kissed her the way she loved best – slowly but with just enough intensity to know he meant it. When she leaned in closer, he lifted his head and winked at her. "Just checking."

"Checking?" she weakly echoed.

"That you weren't mad. You'd be pretty much obligated to slap me if I'd said that at the Planet."

She chuckled and poked his shoulder. "Yes. Wise man, saving that line for here." Looping her arm through his, she walked beside him toward his mother.

Martha looked up from where she'd knelt next to a low mound of soil, an almost-eager smile on her face. "Should I go back inside?"

Lois squatted next to her, still hoping to keep her jeans more or less clean. "Nope, we were just engaging in a friendly discussion about who had the right of way. So what are we planting now?"

"Cantaloupe in this hill and watermelon in that one," Martha answered, gesturing to another low mound. She tossed the packet of watermelon seeds to Clark, and he headed to the other hill. "Those are Sugar Baby melons – the little kind you find in stores – since it's just me eating them. When Clark was growing up, he'd eat an entire big watermelon by himself."

"I can believe it," Lois answered.

Again Martha patiently walked Lois through the correct way to plant the seeds. This time there were only a dozen of them, and the two women were done in a couple of minutes. Straightening, Lois dusted her hands off and turned to see Clark a couple of yards away with his cell phone in hand. It was the first time this entire trip that she'd seen him with his phone.

"Did you just take a picture of me?" she demanded.

"What?" he asked, his expression one of innocent confusion.

Lois wasn't buying it for a second – not when she was barefoot in the garden with rolled-up jeans and a straw hat. She was even wearing the beige t-shirt. "If you post of pic of me on Facebook with the caption 'Farmer Brown,' I _will_ find a way to kill you."

Martha started laughing, but Clark's straight face was a dead give away. Huffing, Lois strode toward him and reached out to snatch his phone. He hid it behind his back and staggered back a couple of paces. "Now Lois, we both know..."

She skipped forward, trying to angle around him, and he should have been too quick. Instead, he moved slowly enough that she kind of bounced off him. He was grinning now, and she realized he'd be airborne if he was really trying to keep the phone from her. This was just another of his attempts at flirting – and she was all for playing along. She tried again, anticipating that he wouldn't move at superhuman speed, and this time they just ended up pressed against each other, him half-turning and half-retreating as she tried to reach around him.

"I just want to borrow it," Lois insisted, mirth bubbling up in her.

"Use your own phone," he said, chortling, and just as Lois tried again to lunge around him, Clark tripped over the edge of the garden. Martha squeaked in surprise when Lois went down with him, and the two of them ended up in a tangled heap on the lawn. By that point, Lois was laughing, too. When he focused on wiggling his arm loose from where their combined weight was pinning it, she finally succeeded in grabbing the phone. Triumphant, she leaped to her feet and unlocked the screen. Clark just lay sprawled in the grass and belly-laughed.

"You let me win," she said through her giggles as she searched his app icons for either a gallery or the camera.

"Of course I did," he wheezed. "Except when I stumbled. That was legit."

That surprised her. Still... "You faked the fall."

"Yes. But not the stumble."

Lois shook her head at him, but got distracted when she finally found the gallery. The most recent photo in it was of Dusty the dog.

"Did you already post it?" she asked, impressed.

Clark settled down enough that he rolled up onto his side so he could see her. "There's no pic. I was checking the weather."

She tossed the phone at him, and he easily caught it. If Martha hadn't been looking on from the shade of the house, Lois might have turned the whole thing into some epic making out. He looked so...tempting the way he was lazily sprawled in the grass and practically glowing with happiness. Still, she could now say she'd tackled Superman. Not many people could brag about that.

Clark waggled his eyebrows at her. "Of course, now you've given me the idea..."

Lois huffed in mock annoyance, and Martha said, "You know the only way to make sure he doesn't get a picture of you like this is to change clothes." To Clark, she said, "Is it going to rain?"

"Nope, you were right. They pushed any chance of precipitation back until after dinner." He smiled up at Lois. "Wanna go swimming?"

"We'll discuss it over lemonade," Martha said, waving toward the house before heading back into the air conditioning.

Lois was all too happy to follow.

…

Half an hour later, Martha and Lois were climbing into the cab of the Kents' old pickup. It only had two seat belts, so of course Clark insisted that he ride in the bed of the truck and whistled for Dusty to hop up next to him. Lois could see the logic of it, but she was also surprisingly relieved when Martha slid open the back window so Clark could talk with them during the drive.

"So...Smallville has a pool?" Lois asked for conversation sake.

"It does," Clark answered, "but that's not where we're going."

"That's for the city slickers," Martha added, grinning as she turned down a dirt track that led away from the paved road. "We're taking you to the swimming hole."

Lois smirked despite herself. "Sounds adventurous."

"I don't know about that," Clark said. "It's just a nice spot along the creek that runs between us and the Lang farm. The water gets a good fifteen feet deep there even in late summer, and there are cottonwoods on the shore for shade and for a rope swing."

"So that's where Superman first learned to fly?" Lois teased. She still couldn't quite wrap her mind around Clark's comment during the Valentine's Day interview about learning to fly and how it included falling a few times. Somehow – like the rest of the world – she'd just assumed it had come naturally.

"That would have made for a softer landing," he muttered. "More like where I learned how not to belly-flop."

That mental image actually made her giggle, and Clark grinned in response. Martha mentioned some of his other misadventures on this particular creek, including catching his first trout there with Jonathan, and Lois reveled in the stories. Before she knew it, Martha had stopped the truck in front of a low hill.

"Problem?" Lois asked.

"Nope."

"So...where's the creek?"

Clark easily hopped out of the pick-up bed and dropped the tailgate to let Dusty out. "On the other side of the levee." Throwing a backpack with towels and such over his shoulder and grabbing the cooler Martha had packed, he led the way toward the creek.

Lois paused just a few steps down from the crest of the levee. Martha's stories had painted a pretty accurate picture. The creek itself was maybe forty feet wide and at most chest-deep except for one channel in the middle. That was too dark for Lois to see the bottom, but she trusted Clark's guess of about fifteen feet deep. She could see fish in the shallows darting out of the way when Dusty jumped into the water, and the hot sun sparkled on the waves created by his paddling around. The grass was green and soft underfoot, and it ran all the way down to the water's edge. The scene was positively idyllic.

Clark set the cooler on a large, flat rock in the shade, and Lois idly wondered if he'd placed that boulder there on purpose at some point over the years. Martha was chatting with him, something about making sure the soda hadn't squished the sandwiches, and Clark pulled off his shirt mid-sentence.

Lois blinked. His Kryptonian suit didn't leave much to the imagination, but even her imagination hadn't quite done justice to the sight before her. He stooped to open the cooler, the motion highlighting his impressive muscles, and she tore her gaze away. _Must not oggle the co-worker._

At least, not if she didn't want to be sneaking into his room tonight.

Suddenly, that cool creek-water looked very inviting. Lois strode the rest of the way down the levee and set her purse next to Martha's backpack. Clark grinned at Lois and extended his hands, one holding a cola and the other a bottle of water. "Thirsty?"

 _Yes, but I'll take the man in the middle, not the drinks._

Laughing at her own mental commentary, Lois just shook her head. "Not at the moment, thanks. I want to jump in."

Clark nodded and put the drinks back in the cooler as Lois kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her cut-offs. When she straightened, Clark was staring at her with the kind of shell-shocked expression she'd come to associate with a thorough kiss. Apparently she wasn't the only one enjoying the half-naked nature of swimming. The thought made her grin.

Clark seemed to realize he was staring and, blushing, shut his gaping mouth. Their eyes met, and he flashed her an appreciative smile before abruptly turning and jumping into the creek. Of course, _he_ would have no trouble landing in the deepest part. His dog barked and swam over to where Clark had gone under the water, circling the center of an expanding ring of ripples.

Martha chuckled beside her, and Lois glanced her way. "He freaks Dusty out all the time, sends him into a panic." She walked over to the bank and stepped down into the water, hissing in surprise.

"You okay?" Lois asked, hurrying toward her.

"Yeah, it's just a bit chilly still." She gingerly waded deeper. "By July it'll be perfect, but this time of year..."

Lois was grateful for the warning and dipped her toe in. It was cooler than your average swimming pool, but it was hardly a polar-bear plunge. She was ankle-deep and adjusting to the water when she realized Clark still hadn't surfaced. "How long can he hold his breath?"

Martha shook her head in amusement, all the way up to her knees by now. "Dunno. He was mad at me once when he was a little kid and held his breath. Must have been something he learned from a classmate. Anyway, after about half an hour of standing there looking like a chipmunk he finally apologized. So at least half an hour."

Lois chuckled at the mental image as she gradually worked her way toward deeper water. "You didn't panic when he held his breath?"

Martha gave her a look. "I stopped being freaked out after _my_ baby was delivered by an alien spaceship."

Lois shook with laughter. "Okay, yeah, I can see that."

The water in front of them erupted and Lois turned away from the spray. Looking back, she saw a dripping-wet and shirtless Clark and thought herself the luckiest woman in the world. That boyish grin, complete with the untamed curl on his forehead, made the fawning fangirl in her want to swoon.

"You ever going to jump in?" he asked, wading closer.

"I could ask you the same question," the fangirl in her muttered before she could stop herself.

He gave her an exasperated look that slid into a mischievous smirk. "Plug your nose" was the only warning he gave before scooping her up and jumping back into the creek.

The cold water enveloped her and she reflexively jolted in surprise. Clark's arms loosened and she flailed her way up for air. As soon as her head was above water, she gasped against the chill. Clark swam toward her, his smile way too amused for her liking, and she splashed him in the face. He didn't flinch (why would he when bullets bounced off him like spitwads?), but he did have the decency to look a bit more apologetic as he wiped the water away from his eyes.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Just a little cold."

He reached out and pulled her back against his broad chest, and the goosebumps on her arms started calming down. His skin against hers was warm even in the water, and Lois rested her head in the crook of his neck with a contented sigh, letting him tread water for them both.

Dusty paddled over, a stick in his mouth, and Clark tossed it for him so he could fetch it. Lois suddenly remembered they weren't alone and looked around for Martha. She wasn't in the water, and Lois finally noticed her reclining on a blanket in the shade, reading a book. Lois smiled and felt a slight twinge of envy. When was the last time she'd just kicked back with a book? It was so serene here, and she was enjoying it more than she'd expected. Of course cuddling up with a shirtless Clark didn't hurt, either.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of her, though. "So how long _can_ you hold your breath?"

He chuckled, the vibration pleasantly rumbling through her, and said, "A very long time."

"An hour?" Lois pressed. "Two years?"

He hesitated long enough that Lois lifted her head and twisted in his arms so she could see his face. He looked worried, in the brief second Lois had to read his expression before he pulled her against his chest again. "I'm not sure that I need to breathe at all."

Lois sobered as that thought sank in. In some ways he seemed so very human, more human than most of mankind. The strength and physical invulnerability were just...enhancements. But this. This was the most basic of human vulnerabilities. "You _can't_ die."

He snorted in wry amusement. "That's not a theory I'm interested in testing."

She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and wondering why it even continued beating if not to bring oxygen to his cells. "But I've seen you breathless." She trailed her fingertips up the side of his ribs to emphasize her point, and his breath caught a little.

"I...think that might be more of an emotional response than a physical one."

Lois grinned and stole a lingering kiss since Martha wasn't watching. He pulled her close against him, his hands splayed across her back, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, thrilling that so much of his warm skin was against hers. Dusty returned with the stick eventually, though, interrupting them and she chuckled. "The dog is going to chaperon us even if your mom isn't."

Clark threw the stick again, more amused than irritated. "Apparently. Want to try out the rope swing?"

"Sure."

The rope was suspended from a cottonwood where the deep channel of the creek cut close to the bank. Clark had to hold the rope for her the first few times she climbed on, but after that, she started to get the hang of it. He couldn't resist showing off, of course, with dives that totally didn't count because he couldn't feel it if even he did end up belly-flopping _and_ because he could fly. Still, Lois was just competitive enough to want try a few stunts of her own. She wasn't sure how long they spent laughing and trying to one-up each other, but eventually she got pretty chilled. Her hands slipped off the rope because they were so cold, and Clark caught her before she hit the water.

Martha sat up and watched in concern when Clark flew her over to the cooler. "Her lips are blue," his mom said, standing up and shaking out the blanket to wrap around Lois.

"I just realized that," he answered.

"I'll warm up," Lois said, shivering a little less now that she was standing in the sun with the blanket.

"I'm not sending you home with a head cold," Martha firmly replied.

"That's not how..." Clark began but Martha silenced him with a Look.

"You need some hot tea or soup or something,"Martha insisted. "Let's get you back to the house."

Lois thought about protesting, but she did want to impress Martha, and arguing over this when Superman was willing to back down didn't seem like the kind of impression she wanted to make.

"Okay, fine. Some hot coffee sounds wonderful, actually."

Martha nodded and they hurried back to the truck. She even insisted that they drive with the heater on and Lois' window up. When that much heat felt good instead of too warm, Lois finally realized how chilled she really was.

When they pulled up to the house, Martha insisted, "Go take a hot shower. I'll have something for you to drink when you get out."

Lois didn't have to be told twice. The outdoors wasn't too bad, but the air conditioning was still running when she followed Martha inside, and goosebumps raised on her arms again. She hurried up the stairs to the bathroom, peeled herself out of her swimsuit, and shivered under the stream of hot water for a good couple of minutes before she felt as warm as she had in the cab of the truck. Figuring she might as well clean up while she was at it, Lois borrowed some of the shampoo Martha had left on the edge of the tub and and washed away the creek-water.

It wasn't until she'd put conditioner in her hair that she realized she'd forgotten to turn a vent on in the bathroom before she got in the shower. By then she was comfortable enough for the fawning fangirl's sense of humor to return, and she was curious just how good his hearing was. "Hey Clark," she said casually, as if he were in the room with her, "I forgot to turn on the fan, and I'm not sure where the towels are. Can you help a lady out?"

A moment later there was a knock on the door. "Come in!" Lois called.

"Superman's busy making soup," Martha said, switching on the fan and a heat-lamp, "so he sent me."

Lois chuckled despite herself at the pun.

Cabinet hinges squeaked and the older woman said, "There are two towels on the counter for you now, and I'll put an extra fleece blanket in your bedroom to wrap up in once you're out. Anything else you need?"

"Forgiveness for stealing some shampoo?"

Martha pshawed on the other side of the shower curtain. "Make yourself at home here, Lois. Use whatever you'd like."

"Thanks."

When the bathroom door closed again, Lois couldn't help but mutter, "If I'd wanted your mother's help, I would have shouted."


	5. Flight of Fancy

Thunder rumbled as Lois settled in on the front porch swing with Clark. He sat at an angle in the corner of the swing, and she tucked her feet up beside her, leaning against his broad chest. Between the denim quilt that cushioned the swing and the patchwork quilt that covered them, Lois was quite comfortably warm.

Clark really was a great cook. His soup had warmed her up from the inside out. After lunch they had driven to town, picked up some tomato and pepper plants, and then returned to put them into the garden. By the time that was all done, it was dinner time again. Martha was making spaghetti inside, but she had shooed them both out of the kitchen and insisted that they go watch the lightening.

For a while they sat in companionable silence, swaying in the swing and listening to the rain. Eventually, though, Lois gave in to one of the questions that kept popping into her head. "You could have tilled up the garden by hand faster than with that tractor and had the whole thing planted in less than a minute if you wanted to."

His hand idly caressed up and down her side in time with the swing. "True."

"And your mom and I are in on the secret, so it wouldn't be like you'd be jeopardizing anything. So just out of curiosity, why didn't you?"

Lightening struck, washing the world white, and thunder clapped a couple of heartbeats later. As it faded, Clark said, "Well, there's always the possibility of a chance passerby, but..." His voice took on a wistful tone. "Life is short enough. Why race to the end of it?"

Lois blinked and tried to make sense of where he was coming from. "I'm not sure I follow."

"Sorry," he said, though she could hear the smile in his voice. "It's just something Dad used to say. What I meant was, I had a lot of fun in the garden, and you seemed to enjoy yourself, too."

"I did. I've never tackled Superman before."

He chuckled and the caress on her ribs became a tickle. Laughing, Lois squirmed away. Clark nudged her close again, placing his arm around her shoulder instead as an unspoken promise to behave. "I know Mom loved every second of it. We would have missed all that joy if I'd just done it myself. Nobody else can keep up – moving that fast is kind of lonely."

A smile spread over Lois' face to realize it wasn't just part of the disguise that he did so many little human things at what must sometimes be a tortuously-slow human pace. Taking his time was one of the ways he kept the social contract with humanity. "You live like us to be one of us."

"Guess so."

Lois rested her head on his shoulder again. "Was all of today part of that?"

"What do you mean?

"I've never seen you this... playful. First there was the 'I'm watching' comment about checking out my derriere, then the whole thing with swimming and now tickling me. I mean, I know you can't get drunk, but is there an illicit drug that can mess with Kryptonian physiology?"

He snorted softly in amusement. "I doubt it. I'm just..."

Lois lifted her head to glance at him when he hesitated. He stared up at the low, gray clouds, but his smile didn't fade. "I guess I'm just more relaxed here. I can be myself around you and Mom. There's no reason to hide. And Metropolis..." His smile turned wry. "Metropolis is pretty overstimulating if I'm not on my guard." He met her gaze. "Don't get me wrong – it's worth every minute being there – but here I'm just me. Right now, I don't have to filter out any of my powers."

Lois tilted her head curiously. "What can you hear in the storm?"

"What can _you_ hear?" he retorted.

Smiling, she said, "I'll tell if you will."

He smirked but leaned back, playing along. "The lightening crackles and hisses through the rain. I can hear it a split second before the thunder, if the strike is close enough."

"How close is close enough?"

"Maybe a couple of miles. There's hail on the other side of this storm – it's plinking on cars and tin roofs – but with the direction of the wind, I doubt it'll come near us. You?"

"Nothing like that," she said, closing her eyes to focus on the sounds around her. "Just the rain. The susurrus of the water on the grass. The patter of it in the mud. The trickle in the downspout."

A smile twitched on her lips. "Not a honk, not a siren, not even the sound of car tires on the road." Opening her eyes, she grinned up at him. "It's too quiet. It makes me think something unexpected is going to happen."

He pulled her closer. "Not here. Nothing exciting ever happens here."

"Except you."

He softly laughed, and Lois decided she loved the feel of it even more than the sound. "Clark Kent exciting? I must be doing this whole disguise thing wrong."

Lois' brow furrowed and she sat up straighter again to look at him. "Superman's the disguise. And Clark Kent _is_ exciting, for those with the intelligence to see it."

That made him laugh even harder.

"Besides," she added, resting her head on his shoulder again when he'd settled down a bit, "I was thinking more about what your mom said earlier today about her baby being delivered by spaceship."

He sobered. "True. And Zod's ship. And the fight down Main Street. I guess I _am_ the exciting thing that happens here."

Lois could hear the regret thick in his voice, and it made her own heart ache. "That wasn't your fault."

"I know. But people still got hurt – and killed."

"Hey." She reached up and, resting her hand on his cheek, turned his head so he had to look at her. Though it was muted, there was the same kind of pain in his eyes that she'd seen in the train station on the day of the Battle of Metropolis. Whatever words she'd meant to say died on her tongue. Instead, she shifted to sitting on her knees (trusting him to make sure the swing didn't dump them both onto the porch) and kissed him.

One of his hands on her elbow steadied her, while the other caressed her face. He surrendered to her with surprising ease, an eagerness behind his kisses that started to make Lois' heart race. When he finally leaned away, that pain in his eyes was replaced by a hunger that took her own breath away.

He blinked and glanced away so sharply it was almost like he was shaking his head. "I... think dinner's about ready."

"Clark..."

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, but he seemed at a loss for words.

Lois heard something beeping inside, probably a timer in the kitchen, and she realized Clark's comment wasn't just a distraction. Martha would call them in any second. She wasn't sure exactly what was wrong – or right – about their conversation and kiss, but in this moment, one thing was certain. "I love you, Clark."

He froze for a couple of heartbeats, and then his shoulders relaxed, the tension draining from him. "I love you, too, Lois." Lifting his gaze to hers, a smile twitched on his lips as he said, "That's the first time you've said as much."

She smiled in answer, but in the back of her mind, she wondered if that was true. She was still wracking her memory when Martha stepped out onto the front porch half a moment later. "Well, dinner's ready if you two are."

"It smells heavenly," Lois said, scrambling to her feet and placing her part of the blanket back onto the porch swing.

Martha smiled, nodded, and headed back inside. Clark moved to follow her, but Lois placed her hand on his chest, stopping him, and stood up on her tiptoes to steal a kiss. "I thought you already knew," she murmured.

"I kind of did." He willingly added another to the kiss she'd already stolen. "It's still nice to hear you say it."

...

Lois sat on the windowsill in her makeshift bedroom, looking up at the stars. The storm had rolled on through and the sky had cleared. There was no moon (or at least, it hadn't risen yet), and she just stared at those diamond-sharp stars in awe.

A soft knock on her door made her smile, and Lois crossed the room to open it. She didn't need X-ray vision to know it was Clark. With Martha being on a farm schedule, she'd gone to bed more than an hour before, but even though Lois was still on Metropolis time, it was too early for her to be tired.

Sure enough, he was standing sheepishly in the hallway.

"Couldn't sleep?" she guessed.

"I could hear you were awake," he answered with a shrug.

She opened the door wider and gestured he should join her. "What gave me away? I was trying to be quiet."

He chuckled softly as he entered and made himself comfortable in the recliner. "Your heartbeat was too fast for you to be asleep."

She was surprised that he could hear her that clearly. Of course, considering all he could hear in the storm, she really had no reason to be surprised. Hopping back up in the windowsill, she glanced up at the stars. "This is an amazing view. They almost feel close enough to touch."

"Not quite, but I could get you a little closer if you wanted."

Her heart skipped in delight, and if he could tell she was awake from the other room, she was certain he'd hear it now. "Recreational flight?"

He nodded. "Might want to bundle up a bit, though. That storm cooled things down."

She eagerly grabbed her hoodie and pulled it on over her nightgown.

"I'll...just wait in the hall while you finish getting dressed," he said as he pulled the door closed behind himself.

Lois shook her head in wry amusement. He could see through that door-frame whether the door was open or closed, and yet he was so careful to give her some privacy. That man was too good to be real.

Once she had her jeans, socks and shoes on again, she opened the door. "I'm ready."

He nodded once, grinning, and entered her room. Crossing to the casement window, he opened it, pulled the screen out, and slipped through it like he was swimming to hover on the other side.

Lois eagerly climbed back up onto the windowsill and scooted so that her legs were dangling over the edge.

Clark gathered her up in his arms. "Is this okay?"

"More than okay," she answered, resting her head on his shoulder.

His only answer was to float upward, above the rooftop, higher than the trees, climbing and climbing until she could hide the house itself with her outstretched hand.

Her breath caught when she looked up, though. The sky was _full_ of stars – so many that even the familiar constellations were hard to pick out. "How can we not see this?" she murmured. "I mean, I know how, but..." She couldn't recall the last time the stars were her brightest light.

"It's a shame we don't see it more often," Clark agreed. He gradually leaned back, adjusting her position until she was reclining on his chest as they floated, her body parallel to his. One of his arms was around her waist, securing her safely against him, and she relaxed into the warmth rising from his body. She felt as though she was truly adrift among the stars, cuddled with a god in a timeless sliver of a moment. She reached up, half-expecting her fingers to send the stars swirling, but still they were beyond her reach. Compared to this, flying with him before had been only slightly less mundane than taking the subway. This...this was truly magical.

"This is what the night sky looked like for most of humanity's existence," he said. "It's what the sky still looks like, every single night, if you can get far enough away from the light pollution. Kind of hard to believe when we're in Metropolis, though, isn't it."

The thought made her smile. "It's like you – something glorious hidden in plain sight until a person really looks."

His chuckle rumbled beneath her, and it only added to the perfection of the moment. They drifted for several long, peaceful moments before she remembered the dream she'd had months ago of flying with him. They had been under a tropical sun in that dream, and he'd been in the Suit, but the wonder she'd felt then was pretty close to the awe of this moment. The thought made her lightly laugh.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

They drifted on, the storm-cooled breeze making her grateful for her tennis shoes and jacket, but pressed against him like this, she was comfortably warm. The thought made her caress the strong arm that held her safe.

"I'll tell you a secret if you tell me yours," Clark said.

Now she was the one confused. "What?"

"What made you laugh? You tell me and I'll trade. We'll swap secrets."

Well when he put it that way... "I was remembering a dream I had about you."

When she didn't say anything more than that, he prompted, "And...?"

"And we had a great time basking under a tropical sun somewhere. But we were airborne, kind of like now, actually. I'd almost forgotten about it."

"How did you know it was tropical? Was it somewhere you'd been before?"

"No, it was just warm like the tropics." She hesitated, because it sounded so cheesy, but since they were playing teenager BFF-sleepover games, she eventually caved. "I couldn't see anything but you. I couldn't stop touching your face."

Clark didn't answer for a long moment, and Lois felt her face grow hot in embarrassment. It really was ridiculously adolescent. "So what about you? What secret are you going to share?"

"I know someone who has a crush on you."

She rolled her eyes. Now he was making fun of her sophomoric dream. "You do, huh?"

"Yeah, but he's an alien. And he has a tendency to dress funny."

"As long as it's not flannel."

He laughter rumbled through her, thrilling Lois again. Maybe it was his happiness, maybe it was the physical contact, but she loved it. "Seriously, though, that's not anywhere near as embarrassing a secret as mine. What about my crush? Does _he_ ever dream about me?"

"Quite often."

When he didn't say more than that, she demanded, "Well? What do you dream about?"

"Mostly mundane stuff – us at the office together. Cooking together. One time I did dream that Cat Grant tried to kiss me and when I stopped her she said you had given her permission."

"WHAT?!"

"That was pretty much my reaction, but when I looked your way, you nodded and gave me a thumb-up. I spent the rest of the dream hiding from Cat and trying to talk some sense into you. I woke up pretty miffed with you both."

Lois laughed, pleased that even in his dreams he was faithful to her. Of course he would be. He was Clark Kent. "So do you want to go another round of sharing secrets?"

"Sure," he easily answered.

"I get to go first this time," she said. "What scares Superman?"

She felt the air leave his lungs in a whoosh, and she realized that was probably a more personal question than she had a right to ask. Before she could take it back, though, he said, "There have been things that scared me, but...the moment I actually panicked was when I saw Zod threatening my mom." His voice was soft, a quiet horror in it. "It was the first time in my life that I threw a punch. I couldn't stop punching him. I _wanted_ to fight him. I wanted to beat him so thoroughly that he'd never threaten anyone again...Killing him was the only way to stop him, though."

She tilted her head and kissed the one part of him she could reach – his chin. "Thank you. For saving us."

"Don't thank me," he said, still looking up at the sky. "It was the only choice I could make, really. But enough about me. What scares the indomitable Lois Lane?"

She knew he was trying to lighten the mood, so she tried to think of something that was both true and not life-and-death. She'd been in war zones, convinced she wasn't going to make it out alive, and those had terrified her. There _was_ one thing, though, that went even deeper than that.

"You have to promise not to laugh."

"Lois," he chided her.

"I'm just saying, you promised, okay?" Taking a deep breath, she said, "I'm afraid of ovens."

To his credit, Clark didn't laugh. He didn't say anything for a long moment. Eventually he asked, "Did you get burned or...?"

"No, but the cookies did, badly enough that they caught fire."

He shook with silent laughter, and Lois poked him. "You promised."

Clearing his throat, he said, "I'm laughing at the cookies, not you. Go on."

She was grinning, too, as she explained, "My grandma's old range malfunctioned and the self-cleaning setting got turned on. When I opened the oven door, the cookies burst into flame like evil, little charcoal briquettes as soon as the oxygen hit them. Of course, I didn't understand the oxygen part at the time. All I saw was 'demon cookies from hell.' That was the last week Grandma forced me to go to church with her, too."

Clark still hadn't stopped laughing, and Lois nudged him again. "It's funny now, but to a five-year-old it was traumatizing. I'm not sure if there's even a word for it, but I still have a mild phobia about pulling hot pans out of the oven."

"Luckily you have a flame-proof boyfriend to help you in the kitchen."

"I wonder if that's why you're such a good cook. It's all fun and games for you."

He snorted in amusement. "That must be it. Couldn't be the super-smell or -taste."

"Clearly," Lois agreed.

"This is the first time you mentioned your grandmother," Clark said. "Tell me more about her."

"She's the only one I remember – my mom's mom. They...well, let's just say that they made critical thinking a family affair. Mom was hard on me like Grandma was hard on her, but Grandma spoiled both me and Lucy rotten. Sometimes I think it was to spite my mom."

Clark shifted, and she glanced up to see him shaking his head. "The more I learn about your family, the more I'm impressed with you. Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm kind of impressed Lucy and I ended up as sane as we are. Of course, we had each other for moral support and some good therapists over the years. Mom just had her brother, and Grandma was always comparing her to him. But Grandma was our Disney World grown-up. While Mom and Dad were going the rounds, she'd take us everywhere – to the beach in Florida, camping in cabins at national parks, museums all up and down the East Coast. I haven't gone on a real vacation since she died my junior year in college." Lois paused, getting choked up a little remembering. "I chalk up my love for travel and adventure to her." Clearing her throat, she said, "What about you? Are your grandparents still alive?

"Grandma Kent lived with us for a few years, until I was about seven years old. I think they put her in a nursing home and she died a year or so later. Both her and Grandpa Kent had been heavy smokers, so her health was really poor. Mom's parents lived on a farm over by Lawrence and were alive into my teenage years."

"Did...did they know about you?"

"Kind of. They knew I'd been found in a field, but I think my parents left out the spaceship part. I'm sure I accidentally let some things slip around them, but all of them made it clear they loved me no matter what."

"Lucky," she muttered.

"I don't know. I've never been to Disney World. Grandma Kent loved to read to me, though..." He told her stories about Grandma Kent, how she taught him to garden and read, how she always made the best homemade bread, how she washed his mouth out with soap the first (and only) time he used a curse word in front of her. Lois closed her eyes, imagining the picture his words were painting. Somewhere under those stars, suspended between heaven and earth, she drifted off into a blissful sleep. She only realized it, though, when Clark jostled her a little. "Lois? Lois, I can't fit us both through the window at the same time."

"Hmm?" she asked, a little disoriented by the sudden presence of the house. He set her on the windowsill and helped her swing her legs back inside. She staggered to her feet, and he was instantly beside her, his hand on her elbow steadying her until she collapsed onto the couch. He tucked her in, kissed her cheek, and whispered, "Sweet dreams."

She sleepily smiled. "You, too." Her last thought before drifting off was that no dream could top falling asleep in his arms while listening to his voice.

Her subconscious did it's best that night, though.


	6. Stories

Author's Note: I promise that future trips to the Kent farm won't span six chapters. Eventually we'll get back to Metropolis and some excitement there. Lois is just really enjoying herself with Clark on this trip. :) I hope you're enjoying it, too!

* * *

Instead of a tractor motor, birdsong and muted sunshine greeted Lois, and she smiled with satisfaction that the universe had gotten its act together. For a few minutes she basked in the indulgent glory that was a lazy Sunday morning. Wisps of her dreams came back to her, emotions and fleeting mental images more than anything, and she was more grateful than ever that mental telepathy wasn't one of Clark's superpowers. Some of the things she'd dreamed were enough to make _her_ blush this morning.

Eventually she wondered what time it was and reached for her phone. After she'd skimmed her email, she finally noticed that the aroma of coffee was filling the room. It made her smile that Clark knew just the right lure to coax her out from her comfy makeshift bed.

As she descended the stairs, he was in the kitchen, a steaming mug in his hand that he offered to her. "Are you positive you're not a mind reader?" she asked, just to be doubly-sure.

"Nope, just very observant," he answered with a wink. "There's batter for waffles when you're ready for breakfast."

Lois blew on her coffee and headed toward the living room to be polite. A newspaper was spread across the coffee table and the TV was turned to CNN with the volume turned low, but Martha was nowhere to be seen. "Where's your mom?"

Clark had followed her into the room and casually brushed a strand of hair from her face. "She left for church a few minutes before you woke up."

"Church?" Lois sat down on the couch, a bit befuddled by that, and cautiously sipped at her coffee.

Clark shrugged as he joined her on the couch. "Everybody goes to church out here. Folks don't get too worked up about where, but it's what you do on a Sunday morning."

Lois shook her head at him in amusement and reached for the front page of the paper. "I thought this was Smallville, not Mayberry."

Following her lead, he turned his attention to the comics section. "Six days out of seven, it is."

She chuckled, liking the two of them just enjoying the morning paper together. It felt vaguely like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting – comfortable in unfamiliar ways. She'd finished all the major stories and was debating which section to move on to when his words and the caffeine finally collided in her brain. " _Everybody_ goes to church out here?"

"Yeah?" Clark said, not looking up from the Sudoku puzzle he was working on.

"So who taught Superman's Sunday school class?"

That caught his attention and he looked up at her with a faint smile. "Helen Ross."

"Ross? Pete Ross' mother?"

"The same."

"Hm." She tried to wrap her mind around it, and Clark returned to the Sudoku puzzle. Religion was a slippery concept for her to begin with. She'd never found anything she had faith in until she'd crossed paths with a certain red-caped god. That Martha and Jonathan would bring Clark – a non-human with supernatural powers – to a church every Sunday was probably the most mind-blowing thing she'd learned about him in months. Did they go out of devotion or because it was another way to blend in? Did Clark ever believe in the Christian God? Did he ever stop? Did that upbringing have an impact on why he decided to become Superman?

She shook her head, trying to pull herself out of reporter mode. He didn't need to be badgered by her about it. While the world would love to know all that about him and more, it was too personal a part of his story to tell. For one thing, it might give away too much publicly about who he was.

Mentally shifting gears, she said, "You didn't have to skip Sunday services for me."

He shrugged, still engrossed in the puzzle. "I confessed to the current pastor that I'm an alien. I figured that might make it a bit awkward to go back."

Lois started giggling. "You did not."

Clark leaned back into the corner of the couch so he was facing her and smirked. "Now why would you doubt me?"

"I don't know, maybe because you try to hide that from everybody."

His expression sobered. "Until I couldn't anymore."

It took her a few seconds to realize what he meant. "Zod's transmission?"

He nodded. "I wasn't sure where else to turn, and I guess old habits die hard. I went to the chapel I attended as a kid and talked with the pastor there. Told him I was the one everyone was looking for."

Lois just couldn't even imagine the scene he was describing. "Did he chase you out with a crucifix or...?"

Clark's easy smile cut her off. "He was a little rattled but for the most part he took it in stride. I hadn't attended services for years, and he was a new pastor so he didn't recognize me, but he actually gave me some good advice."

"Huh." Granted, her line of work left her a bit jaded about humans in general, but she'd come to associate deceit, hypocrisy, abuse, embezzlement, and arrogance with religion. A pastor actually guiding and uplifting one of his flock wasn't as mind-blowing as the idea of a devout Superman, but it was still hard to wrap her head around.

"Ready for waffles?"

"Sure." It was a laid-back Sunday morning, after all.

Of course, Clark couldn't just serve her any old waffles. While the iron heated, he pulled a bowl of sliced and sweetened strawberries out of the fridge along with some actual whipping cream. "You spoil me rotten," she said as she watched him whisk the cream by hand.

"You can thank my mom for this, actually," he said, not looking up from the bowl. "She planned the menu for this weekend. Except for the soup yesterday. That was impromptu."

Lois chuckled, but she also made a mental note to thank Martha.

Clark being Clark, he had no problem with joining her for strawberry shortcake waffles, even though it was his second breakfast. As he cut into it with his fork, Clark said, "Did you see the story about Indonesia?"

She nodded. A volcano on one of the islands was sending up a massive plume of hot ash and poisonous gas. Local authorities had evacuated several villages on the slopes. Some people were refusing to leave, though, since there wasn't a place to evacuate their herds to.

Around his bite of waffle, he said, "If it erupts, I'll need to duck out for a little while."

"I guess I can't complain too loudly," Lois answered. "I had you to myself pretty much all day yesterday."

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked, tilting his head curiously and reaching out to take her hand.

She squeezed it tightly in answer. "Yes. I could definitely get used to more of that. But there are a few emails I should respond to. It's not a big deal if I'm alone for a few hours."

Clark cheerfully turned his attention back to his breakfast. "Mom will be home around eleven o'clock, depending on how long she and Aunt Emmie spend talking over coffee and donuts after the worship services. Worst case scenario, you'd only be on your own for about an hour."

Swallowing her own bite of waffle, Lois said, "I'll be fine either way. I haven't needed a babysitter for decades."

Before she was done eating, though, Clark pulled out his cell phone and turned up the volume on the streaming app. It was a language she didn't recognize, but his expression was all too familiar. "The volcano?" she asked.

He nodded and gave her a rueful smile. "I'll be back as quickly as I can."

"Go, and no rush. I'm not flying anywhere without you."

His smile warmed to something more genuine, and with a shock of air he was gone.

Lois finished her breakfast at a leisurely pace then washed the dishes. She wasn't lying to Clark earlier about needing to answer a few emails, so she kicked back on the couch and put her cell phone to good use. Her usual sources with connections to Metropolis's criminal elements had clammed up, but an idea had occurred to her. An animal rights activist – some would say extremist – had helped her in the past, and he just might be able to help her now.

She was so focused on her emails that she didn't realize she wasn't alone until Martha opened the front door. "Oh, hey," Lois mumbled in greeting, feeling a little under-dressed in her nightgown when the older woman was in her Sunday best.

"Good morning," Martha cheerfully answered, shedding her purse and heels. "Where's Clark?"

"Saving some people and their cows in Indonesia."

Martha half-laughed and sat down in the recliner opposite the couch. "I need a globe just to keep up with him."

"It feels the same for me sometimes," Lois agreed.

They lapsed into a moment of awkward silence, and Lois started to say something about getting dressed for the day when Martha also began speaking. "You first," Lois insisted.

"I just wanted to apologize. The last time you and I were alone here, I acted like a stubborn old goat."

Lois smiled, realizing Clark must have forgotten to relay her answer to that. "I was a stubborn younger goat and I got beaten fair and square. No hard feelings."

Martha's eyes sparkled in amusement. "I'm glad you see it that way. But I still...I wish there were some way we could start over."

Lois started to shrug, but inspiration struck. "So why don't we? Give me a few minutes to change clothes, and then let's start over. I'll knock at the front door, you can let me in, and we can talk about the man we both know is someone pretty amazing. Let's have that interview now, off the record, of course."

Martha laughed. "I won't make you knock on the front door, and I want to change out of this dress, too. But the rest sounds nice."

In her bedroom, Lois hurriedly pulled on her jeans and a t-shirt, anxious to hear whatever Martha was willing to tell her. The older woman was even quicker, though, and was sitting in the recliner again, fidgeting with the cross on her necklace, when Lois came back downstairs. "You'll understand if there are some things I can't tell you, I hope," Martha said when Lois entered the room. "I mean some things I can't and some things...I won't."

She nodded as she sat down. "Of course. Some things aren't yours to tell, and I understand that. Others might be too personal, and that's okay, too." She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Clark's told me a fair amount of his story, and I'm happy to get the rest when he's ready to tell it. But your story is a pretty amazing one, too. I don't know if you can appreciate just how much of you and Jonathan are in Clark. Some of who he is today is nature, but a lot of it is going to be nurture, too. I want to hear _your_ story if you're willing."

Martha rocked back a little in surprise. "I'm just a farmer's wife..."

"Who taught a being with limitless power how to be kind and compassionate," Lois said. "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Your son is one of the purest, brightest souls I know, and it's a complete contradiction."

Martha blushed and looked down. "You're right about Clark, but I think you're overestimating my part in all that. He's always been..." Martha lifted her gaze to Lois. "...special, from the moment I laid eyes on him. There's just something good about him. Wholesome. Beautiful. I don't know..."

Lois listened, enthralled, as Martha shared in detail everything she could remember about finding Clark. But that was just the beginning. "For the first week or so, I barely slept a wink. I'd hold him in the rocking chair until I was so tired I was afraid I'd drop him, but I couldn't leave him alone, either. He was so...fragile."

Lois' reporter composure slipped, and she jerked a little in surprise. 'Fragile' was the last word she'd use to describe Clark.

Martha noticed and smiled. "I know you'd never guess it now, but he was. Earth wasn't kind to him at first." Her smile faded. "Of course, we didn't figure all that out until later. We didn't realize he was an alien yet. He looked too human. We thought it was just the effects of being sent up into space as a baby. He spit up so much formula that I thought nothing was getting to his stomach. He struggled to breathe. Sometimes he'd startle at nothing, and I thought it might be a seizure. And he cried unless he was being held. It broke my heart."

"Did you bring him to a doctor?" Lois asked.

Martha shook her head. "We didn't dare. We thought he was part of a Soviet experiment. For the first time in ten years of marriage, I didn't sleep next to my husband. Jonathan slept with a shotgun, and I slept next to this tormented baby. Some of it seems kind of silly now, but my imagination ran wild. What if they figured out where he was? What if they stormed the house? Would my Jonathan kill another human being over this child? Would I be willing to die to protect him? I think it was the third night or so that I realized, yes, I would, and so would Jonathan."

Despite herself, Lois was moved by her words. It was the way every parent was supposed to feel about their child, but she seriously doubted that her own mother ever felt that way. And at the time, Clark wasn't an invulnerable superhero. He needed that kind of protection.

Martha shook herself a little, a hint of a smile returning to her face. "Fortunately, none of that was ever necessary. The first night we didn't even have formula and had to feed Clark cow's milk. When he reacted so badly to it, Jonathan went first thing the next morning to buy some formula and diapers and such from the grocery store. But Smallville's...well, small. Everybody knows everybody and their dog, especially back then. The cashier was one of the Irig girls, and she of course knew we didn't have any kids. She commented on the baby stuff, and Jonathan had to make up some story about it being for a charity drive. We were more careful after that. We drove all the way to Wichita and bought a crib and car seat and everything else we could think of for him. For about four months we managed to hide Clark from everyone. When the authorities never came for him, we decided to adopt him. To do that, we needed a story that would never make anyone suspicious. So we brought him into town and told Chief Parker that we'd found this baby, strapped into a car seat alongside the road in the middle of a field."

"And he believed it?"

Martha shrugged. "He had no reason not to. Jonathan...well, you never got a chance to meet him, but he was as plain-spoken as they come. Had a reputation for honesty. It was a wonder he could lie well enough for the Irig girl to believe him. And while our story was strange, for sure, and the search for his mom made all the papers in the state, there wasn't any reason to not let us just adopt him, when all was said and done."

"So when did Clark go from spitting up formula to having a super appetite?" Lois asked.

Martha chuckled. "Pretty quickly. That's part of why we thought it was safe to introduce Clark to the world. Within a few months he was breathing normally and eating as well as babies eat, but he still twitched unexpectedly sometimes. Chief Parker had a doctor come look at Clark, of course, but he didn't seem to think much of the twitch. He guessed Clark was about six months old at that point, so he was maybe two months old when we really found him."

"Clark mentioned his grandmother – I believe it was your mother – lived with you for a while?" Lois was curious how she'd fit in to the picture.

Martha nodded. "Yes, she came to live with us a few months after we introduced Clark to the world. She and Dad had been living in Topeka with his sister. He had lung cancer and had been treated in the hospital there, but he'd died almost a year before we found Clark. Mom was tired of grieving and wanted to feel useful, so she came and stayed until her own health wouldn't let her anymore."

Martha's words continued to weave the tapestry of Clark's early childhood, with so many names of those long gone. Jonathan, Martha's mother, Helen Ross... When Martha mentioned her mother's passing, Lois said, "I would have liked to have met her."

Martha smiled, her eyes a bit misty, and she went to the only bookshelf in the living room. Pulling a half-dozen photo albums and scrapbooks off the shelf, she sat on the couch next to Lois and spread them out on the coffee table. She opened a faded, brown-and-orange photo album and pointed to the first picture. It was an older woman who clearly resembled Martha, holding a chubby cherub of a baby.

"Is that...?"

"My mom and Clark," Martha proudly said, her finger touching the baby's face.

Lois' heart swelled in unexpected ways. Yes, he really was adorable, even then. Especially then.

Together, they went through all the albums in the living room, and then Martha got a whole banker's box of scrapbooks and albums from upstairs somewhere. She and Lois had flipped through about half of them before a puff of air announced Clark's return. He stood just inside the front door, still in his Suit, and sighed in consternation. "Really, Mom? The bathtub pictures?"

Lois broke out in laughter, and Martha hastily closed the book they'd been looking at.

"I leave you two alone for a few hours and what do you do?" A grudging smile spread over Clark's face and he stepped deeper into the room to give Lois' hand an affectionate squeeze.

Still amused, she said, "You smell like sulfur and stinky animals. I take it the rescue went well?"

"Well enough. There were a few head of cattle I couldn't save, but no human lives were lost."

"Go shower," Martha said with motherly authority, "and you can tell us all about it afterward."

He nodded and dashed upstairs.

Lois helped Martha put the books back into the box. "Thank you."

"For what?" Martha lightly asked.

"For opening up to me like that. You didn't have to, and so it means the world to me."

Martha paused and looked her square in the eye. "Thank you. I've never..." She glanced away, smiling faintly. "There hasn't been anyone I even could talk to about all this." She patted Lois' hand and went back to packing up the books.

Like seeing the picture of Clark as a baby, Martha's words make Lois' heart squeeze in unexpected ways. While she'd known she'd get along with Martha well, she hadn't anticipated an direct friendship with the mother of her boyfriend. It was an unforeseen fringe benefit, and it made her smile.

Clark returned, showered and changed, before they were done. He kissed Lois and hefted the box of books for Martha. "Pete was at church today," she said as she followed him up the stairs. "He says 'Hi.'"

"He knows we're in town?" Lois asked in surprise.

Martha shook her head. "No, he just wanted me to pass it along the next time I saw Clark. But he did invite me and Emmie and her husband and the Langs over for a barbecue on Monday night."

Clark turned into a storage room across the hall from Lois' library of a bedroom and added the box to a stack of them. "What did you tell him?" he asked his mother.

"I told him I'd have to get back to him."

Clark glanced at Lois. "He's one who's in the know. Or close enough, I guess."

She frowned thoughtfully. "What about the others?"

"They're family, by blood or friendship," Martha said with a shrug. "There's no danger in it. It's just a matter of what you prefer to do."

Lois glanced at Clark, trying to read his expression. These were his people, as much as any humans could be, and the reporter in her was curious to see him around them. He was so different here compared to Metropolis, and she wanted to observe him in his natural habitat. "I'd kind of like to go," she said.

He nodded. "Go ahead and call him, then. Tell him we flew in for the weekend and you'll be driving us over to Wichita to catch our flight home tomorrow night, but we could come for at least a little while."

Martha grinned and headed back downstairs to make the call.

Clark moved to follow her, but Lois caught his hand. Martha would be on the phone, so they had a few minutes alone together. What was it about him that reduced her to a twitterpated fangirl, anyway?

A smile flitted across his face, and he cupped her cheek with his free hand. "I love you, Lois."

Warmth rushed through her, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. "Love you...too," she whispered. His arms encircled her and pulled her close as he returned her kiss – with interest. Her heart thundered, and she tried to remind herself to not overwhelm his supersenses.

Martha hollered up the stairs, "Pete wants to know if starting at five o' clock will be early enough to let you to catch your flight home."

Lois giggled against his lips and forced herself to take a step back. The longing in his eyes almost brought her back into his arms, but he stepped toward the door.

 _Tonight_ , she promised herself. She'd convince him to take her flying again tonight, and they'd pick up where they left off now.

"That should be fine, Mom," he called down to her. "We'll have to leave by about seven o' clock, but that will work."

Lois could hear Martha's voice, presumably relaying the information, and she called back up, "Can we start at four, then?"

"Sure."

Clark glanced back at Lois, but she knew the moment had passed. With a reluctant sigh, she took his hand and headed downstairs.

Martha was tying an apron on when they came down into the kitchen.

"How can I help?" Clark asked, grabbing another apron for himself.

Martha started him on prepping chicken for grilling while she made the salad. Lois was used to Clark taking over her kitchen, so she just took a seat at the table and kept them company. As Lois watched the two of them working together with familiar ease, she felt a little wistful. If only she and her own mother had a relationship that was half as close as this alien and the woman who raised him.

Even though Martha had denied it, there was something super about her, too. Lois was grateful for the time they were able to spend alone together that afternoon. The act of sharing her story drew Lois a little closer into the circle of Martha's love and Clark life. It was a precious gift, something that, as a wordsmith, she particularly appreciated. She'd have to find some way to repay that kindness some day.


	7. Long Distance

Author's note: I'm pulling from some of my own family history for some of Martha's and Jonathan's misadventures.

* * *

The view from Martha's front porch was even better tonight, Lois decided. Clark was sitting on the railing, his long legs stretched out almost all the way to the next post. It would have been a precarious perch for anyone who wasn't able to fly, and she remembered with a smile his comment last night about being himself here. He caught her staring and winked, making her grin wider.

The sun was just slipping beneath the horizon, and the warmth of the day was easing into something more comfortable. Martha was on the porch swing beside her, and all three of them were enjoying brownie sundaes while the Kents kept up the family storytelling. To spare Clark's feelings, Martha was reminiscing about Jonathan instead.

"I was a senior in high school when we met. He was a year older than me, so he had already graduated and was working on his uncle's farm over in Iola at the time. I was a cheerleader and traveled with the football team."

Clark grinned, clearly familiar with the story. "When the Baldwin City Bulldogs came to play, Dad ended up watching her instead of the game. That's what he always used to say."

Martha shook her head with a fond smile. "He brought me a candy apple afterward and asked if he could have my phone number."

"That was pretty bold," Lois said. From the descriptions she'd heard so far, he seemed too laid back to do something like that.

"This was still the 1960's, you have to remember, and besides, we had to pay for long-distance phone calls back then. It wouldn't have been very gentlemanly to expect me to call him, especially if it was on my dime."

Lois chuckled, trying to imagine a teenage Martha back in the Decade of Love. Maybe one of the photo albums would have a picture to help her. She'd have to ask Clark later.

"It was an hour-and-a-half drive for him to visit me, but one way or another, we'd see each other every Friday night. He'd drive that old Studebaker pickup up for the school dances or follow the football team with me. Even in winter when the roads were to snowed-in, he'd call and we'd talk."

"Tell her about your first kiss," Clark said, already chuckling, and it didn't take Lois' reporter instincts to tell there was a good story here.

Martha laughed in answer as she nodded. "Over Christmas, we went to the movies. I think the date before that he'd wanted to kiss me but he couldn't quite work up the courage. So anyway, it was a romance that we saw, and I guess Jonathan was feeling pretty inspired because when we got back to my house, he pulled me close and tried to dip-kiss me."

" _Tried_ to?" Lois blurted out.

Clark was laughing so hard the railing was shaking.

Martha's eyes danced. "Yes. He lost his balance and we both tumbled off my front porch into the snow."

Lois shook with giggles herself. "Were you okay?"

"Oh yes. He helped me to my feet and got me back up onto the porch. He was so embarrassed it was adorable and I just couldn't help myself. I gave him a quick little peck."

"And then he ran away," Clark added. "Retreated to the truck and drove off."

Martha shot him an amused glance. "Yes, but in fairness, he called me the next day to apologize."

"I wish I'd had a chance to meet him," Lois wistfully said.

"Me, too," Martha answered, patting her hand.

Before the lull in conversation could become awkward, Clark gestured to Lois' empty ice cream bowl. "Can I take your dish?"

"I'll do that," Martha said, rising to her feet. "It's a nice night. You two should go for a walk or something."

"You sure?" Lois asked to be polite.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Martha laughed, stacking all three of their bowls. "You two don't need me tagging along. Now shoo!"

"Thank you," Lois said.

Clark held the door for his mother, but after he closed it behind her, he reached for Lois. Hand in hand, they went down the porch steps and started around the house to the back yard.

"So...what do you want to do this evening?" Clark asked. "The stars will be even brighter than last night in another half-hour or so."

"I don't know," Lois said, frowning thoughtfully. "I'm kind of starting to miss the city lights. What's the nearest big town?"

Clark chuckled. "Define 'big.' Wichita's the nearest city of any size, but it's less than half a million people. I could get the Geo..."

"No," Lois firmly said. She didn't want to just travel, she wanted to be with him. "I don't want the car tonight. I don't want anything to come between us."

He paused on the edge of the yard and turned to face her, smiling gently before he stooped to kiss her. The sweet taste of chocolate lingered on his lips, and Lois wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned closer.

"I like the sound of that," he murmured, holding her close.

She rested her head in the crook of his neck, breathing in that closeness. "I'm glad you do." Despite the fact that they spent the entire evening together, feeling him pressed against her sent tendrils of warmth curling through her body all the way to her toes. Part of it was undeniably physical – he was _Superman_ after all, and could be imposing just entering a room – but an even bigger part of it was that his superhuman caring was directed at her. He could go anywhere, do anything he wanted, and he chose to spend every moment he could with her.

She chuckled to realize they were already levitating. His powers had their own charm, too. Feeling reckless, she lifted her head and kissed him again, her fingers twining in his hair.

His arms around her waist kept her pressed against him, and he matched her kiss for kiss as they continued to rise into the night sky. The warmth of his body, the sweetness of his kiss, the magic of being suspended between heaven and earth all conspired to make the moment perfect.

The wind stirred her hair, and she pulled back enough to realize he was flying backward again like that night in February. She didn't need the shelter of his wake this time, though. "It's warm out, and I like the breeze."

Clark shook his head at her with a wry smile, and in a blink he was behind her, holding her against his chest again. One of his arms was low across her hips, while the other crossed her torso like a shoulder seat-belt. "Let me know if it becomes too much," he said in her ear, and then he tipped forward in earnest flight.

Lois' breath caught, giddy joy making her laugh, as the wind whisked her hair back and swept over her skin. She had no idea how high up they were, no point of reference to even guess, but the farmhouses spread out beneath her were the size of her thumb, and the fields were a deep blue patchwork in the dark.

Clark swooped to the left, making her stomach flip, and Smallville sparkled before her like stars tossed in a casual pile on the plains. It looked remarkably welcoming to Lois – civilization among the dark farms – even though the town itself was so small.

"Where's the IHOP?" she asked, trying to get her bearings.

He turned in flight again, and at the new angle, she could see the sign. Now she got it. There was Main Street, the post office, the little motel she'd stayed at when she'd come here as a reporter hunting down her mystery man. Only in her wildest dreams would she imagine that one day they'd be flying together like this.

He glided on, and they were still so high that her hand hid the water tower. The curve of their flight path brought them beyond Smallville, and she lifted her gaze to take in the view. A couple of other little towns glittered on opposite sides of the horizon, and off in the distance, she could see a faint glow against the underside of some clouds. "That's Wichita over there, right?"

"Yes, I'm impressed," Clark answered.

"Well, you said it was the only city of any size," she pointed out.

"Did you want to go there?"

"Not necessarily. I don't think any attraction there could beat this."

She felt more than heard his chuckle, and she wished that she could somehow wrap herself up in his amusement. How on Earth had she been lucky enough to cross paths with him, to catch him on camera in the Arctic, to successfully track him down? What did she do to not only earn his trust but to also win his love? It was almost enough to make her suspect that some higher power or another _had_ intervened.

With this flight arrangement, she couldn't kiss him, but she caressed the strong arm that crossed her body and held her to him. Everything about him was so...different, and it wasn't just the depth of his caring or the steely strength of his biceps. They'd been dating for three months and hadn't really made it past kissing. She'd never been in a relationship where, by this point, the guy wasn't at least strongly hinting he'd like some action. Of course, if Jonathan was where Clark learned his moves, maybe she should just count herself lucky that she hadn't been romantically dumped in a snowbank yet. The thought made her chuckle, and she caressed his arm again.

She felt Clark turn his head behind her, and his warm lips kissed the side of her wind-chilled neck. She shakily caught her breath at the desire that swept through her. Seriously, _how_ did he have that kind of power over her?

They continued on in flight, Lois getting lost in a blissful barrage of sensation as his mouth moved over her neck and the top of her shoulder. Her skin was alive to the slightest change – the warmth of his breath, the wind-chilled trail of his kisses, the air flowing over her face like water. She closed her eyes and clung more tightly to his arm, surrendering to it all.

When his mouth slid up to tease her earlobe, she realized he'd turned the tables on her. She was the one getting overwhelmed by her senses while, punk that he was, he was free to kiss her with abandon.

She tried to open her eyes, and the wind whipped tears from them. Clark was flying much faster now, and she closed them again. Maybe this was like driving a car for him – get him excited and he'd lose track of his speed. The thought made her grin, but she was also noticing that her shortness of breath probably wasn't due to just his kissing. The wind was a constant pressure against her chest.

"Too fast," she managed to say.

Her stomach lurched as he suddenly slowed down. "I'm so sorry, Lois!"

She chuckled, now that she could breathe more freely. "Don't be. I'll bring goggles next time."

In a blink, he was in front of her again, searching her eyes with concern. "Are you sure? I could bring you home..."

"Yes, I'm sure. And I want to keep flying. I'm just... merely human."

He nodded and was behind her in a blink again – her personal, supernatural jet-pack. She laughed at the thought and said, "Show me more."

He leaned them both forward in flight again, gently gliding. They were traveling in a wide circle as Wichita slowly reeled out of sight and an inky-black ribbon meandered beneath them. "Is that a river?"

"Yes. And up there to your right is where Riley Creek empties into it."

They swooped lower, and Lois' heart crept to her throat. She wasn't afraid of getting hurt, but she also couldn't help her body's reaction to their swift descent. Clark adjusted their path so that they followed the creek, and she recognized where they were when he slowed.

The swimming hole was cool by night. Last night it would have felt cold, but tonight it was simply pleasant. They alighted on the long grass next to the boulder, and Lois missed the warmth of Clark's body as he let go and stepped back a pace. Still, she looked around in wonder. Faint starlight reflected on the surface of the water, but deep shadows under the cottonwoods made the shoreline mysterious. Instead of surrounded by farmland, she felt like they were in the middle of a wilderness. Without consciously choosing to, she reached for his hand.

He caught her hand, of course, and squeezed it once reassuringly before taking a seat on the boulder. "Did you enjoy that?"

She sat on the stone, too, and leaned into him. "I did. You spoil me rotten. I'm going to have to take a flight on a stupid airplane for work at some point, and I'll hate every second of it."

He laughed again, and Lois rested her head on his shoulder.

Clark twined his fingers with hers, their clasped hands on his knee. His thumb stroked her skin, and Lois was acutely aware that, not only were they in the middle of nowhere, they were alone.

"I kind of have a bone to pick with you, though," Clark eventually said.

She sat up straighter in surprise and tried to look at him in the faint light. "Oh?"

"Yes. You said earlier that you were merely human. That's inaccurate. You're amazing."

She chuckled softly, feeling flattered, and rested her head on his shoulder again. "Thanks for the compliment, but I think you might be a _teeny_ bit biased."

"I mean it. I've never met a woman like you before," Clark said.

Lois couldn't help but laugh at his cheesy pick-up line. Like father, like son, at least when it came to wooing women.

"What?" he demanded.

"I've never met anyone like you either, Clark."

"I'm serious here," he said, though she could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'm one of the sharper crayons in the box," she admitted, "but coming from you..."

"I might be the only Kryptonian on Earth, but you're the only Lois Lane."

"Lane isn't that uncommon of a last name," Lois retorted, teasing him. "I bet if I Googled..."

He cut her off with a kiss, and Lois laughed softly against his lips as she willingly returned it. Maybe it was the attention he'd lavished on her in flight, maybe it was the fact that she could be herself here too, but Lois suddenly wanted him. She wanted to make love with him right here on the soft grass under the stars.

Clark broke off the kiss and leaned away.

Lois' eyes fluttered open and she tried to read his features in the dark. He didn't seem to be breathing heavily or anything – no indication that she'd overwhelmed his senses. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm..." He trailed off and Lois tilted her head. He sounded uncertain more than overwhelmed. "I'm more than okay. I'm in love with you. I've never...I mean, I've had crushes, I've thought women were attractive, but not..."

He was kind of adorable when he was at a loss for words.

"There's something...about you, something...precious and brilliant and fiery and...and just beautiful...and I love you for it."

Her heart swelled at his words, but just as quickly, she deflated. Beauty was in the eyes of the beholder, and he only saw the best in her. Still, she caressed his rough cheek. "I love you, too."

His face turned under her hand and he kissed her palm, sending another pang of longing through her. Catching her hand, he lowered it away from his face. "I wanted to answer you yesterday when you asked for help in the shower."

She was a little miffed that he'd insist on a conversation right now, but trying to hide it, she admitted, "Yeah, I shouldn't have embarrassed you in front of your mom that way."

"I could have lived with that, but... I have a confession to make."

Remembering their conversation from the morning, she smirked. "I don't have the God cred for that."

He huffed an exasperated sigh. "I lied when I said that Zod almost killing Mom is what scared me the most." He hesitated and drew a deep breath. "The thing that terrifies me is hurting you."

"Clark..."

"No, I need to say this, Lois. When I had to use my heat vision on you..." She felt an echo of searing pain at the memory. "...that scream still haunts my dreams sometimes. I know it was necessary and that it saved your life, but the thought of hurting you again, on accident...I'm not sure I could live with that."

Lois turned his words over in her mind. Apparently the flip side of him caring so much was that sometimes he cared too much. The thought made her frown in concern. "I really don't think that's something we need to worry about. I'm not worried, anyway."

"I am. You know how strong I am."

This was beginning to sound like the worst-ever variation of "It's not you, it's me." He couldn't be working himself up into dumping her, could he? After bringing her home to meet his mom and everything? Frustrated, she asked, "So...what?"

"What do you mean, so what?"

A lump was swelling in her throat and she fought to swallow it down. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm afraid of hurting you, Lo."

"And...?"

"And I would genuinely hate myself if I did."

He was going to make her spell it out for him, wasn't he. Was that why he wasn't getting handsy with her on this trip like every straight human male would have? Grinding out the words, she demanded, "Are you breaking up with me?"

"What?!" he said, his voice pitching higher in surprise. "No!"

He sounded genuinely shocked, and Lois let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Lois, I mean it when I say I love you. I just... I did eventually learn to hone my senses. This is pretty intense, though. It might take me a little longer."

She chuckled in relief. Yes, this was a variation on "It's not you, it's me," but it was one she could live with.

He kissed her palm again (and dammit but it made her melt a little) and leaned into her hand against his cheek. "I guess..." There was a roughness in his soft voice that warmed her all the way to her toes. "I guess it means I'm asking for your patience. Don't give up on me. Please. Because I do love you."

She closed her eyes as his words sank in, surprised at how... appealing it was to hear him plead like this. It wasn't a power thing, it was...he cherished her. He was willing to make whatever effort it took to be with her. Because he loved her. She impulsively closed the gap between them and kissed him, her other hand also finding his face. "I won't give up," she whispered against his lips, "but I'm not sure I can promise patience."

He chuckled and, pulling her close, rose into the air again, this time face-to-face. "I'll take whatever promise I can get, then," he said, peppering his words with kisses.

"Greedy," Lois observed, her hands sliding down to clasp behind his neck.

"Guess so," he agreed. "So demanding." His mouth moved over her chin to her neck. "Don't know why you put up with me."

"Must be your fashion sense," Lois said, her head lolling to the side.

That made him actually laugh, his warm breath puffing against her skin, and Lois held him close with all her puny, human strength.

"I don't deserve you," he said, caressing her face.

"You're right, you deserve much better," Lois retorted, "but I'm glad you're content with me."

Even in the faint starlight, Lois could see the dirty look he gave her at that, but he yielded easily enough when she kissed him again. She was careful to not overwhelm him, much as she'd like to, but she'd promised. Their feet touched earth again before he had to break off their kiss.

When she opened her eyes, she could clearly see his face and realized it was because of an electric light. They were back at the Kent home. Their flight was over for the night. Sighing wistfully, she rose on her tiptoes and stole one last, lingering kiss. Then twining her arm with his, she let him escort her up the back porch steps.

A very pleasant thought occurred to her. "You know, the more we do this, the faster you'll be able to hone your senses. Right?"

"It's certainly a theory worth testing," he said.

Lois glanced up at his formal wording, but the sly twinkle in his eyes gave away his delight at the thought. Maybe her impatience would be rewarded.


End file.
